


Scenes from a Marriage

by Rocky_T



Series: Second Chances [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, F/M, Pre-Voyager, Section 31
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-29 18:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17813630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: AU offshoot of “The Lieutenant” series, in particular “Best Destiny”, which details what happened after Kathryn Janeway and Justin Tighe returned to Earth at the end of theIcarusmission.Hint:Tighe doesn’t die in this Universe.“Scenes from a Marriage” is the first story of the “Second Chances” series. It precedes “The Long Way Home” (posted November 2018).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The character of Justin Tighe was created by Jeri Taylor in her novel “Mosaic.”
> 
> For the complete timeline, see the Appendix.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Seema for her excellent beta, and for her efforts that went above and beyond the call of duty.

_When you look at me  
And the whole world fades  
I’ll always remember us this way.  
\- Lady Gaga _

The _Icarus_ mission was over.

Less than a week ago, the ship had returned to Earth after a six-month assignment to study quasar emissions. At least, that had been the official mission.

In the temporary Starfleet housing he’d been assigned, Lieutenant Justin Tighe rose before sunrise one morning. He got out of bed quietly, so as not to disturb his fiancée. A quick glance confirmed that Kathryn was still asleep. She lay on her side, her face in repose, her long auburn hair spread over the pillow. He dressed swiftly and was about to leave when he heard her call his name.

“Justin, why are you awake already?” She sat up and her glance fell on his uniform. “Another debriefing at Starfleet Command? Mine were finished days ago.”

He smiled as he turned to face her. “I’ve got an early meeting this morning,” he said casually.

“Must be very early indeed,” she commented as she got out of bed, tugging at the hem of her short negligee to straighten it. “What time is it now?”

“Six-thirty. You should go back to sleep.” 

“I’d be more inclined to go back to bed if I could persuade you to join me,” she said as she put her arms around his neck.

“I’d love to, but--"

“I know, I know. Duty first.” She yawned. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“Hard to say. I’ll let you know.”

He meant to just give her a quick kiss, but their embrace quickly showed signs of developing into something more. Regretfully, he pulled away.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, then added, “Love you.”

Her face lit up in a smile at hearing him say those words out loud. “I love you, too.”  
***

The woman known only as Chloe stood in the center of the elegantly appointed room. The finest tapestries, made from rare Dolevian silk, graced the walls along with Andorian sculpture atop marble pedestals that were works of art in their own right. Earth's art history was not neglected: a large Picasso hung on the far wall. Not the type of room in which one expected to find one of the more powerful puppet masters of Section 31. Not _the_ master, of course; the identity of the group’s true leader was perhaps the most carefully guarded secret of all.

Chloe herself could have been anywhere from 30 to 60 years old. Her unlined face--now serene and guileless but capable of becoming harsh and cunning within the blink of an eye--was framed by perfectly straight white-blonde hair that just grazed the tops of her shoulders, which were left bare by the short dress which clung invitingly to her every curve. Her dark eyes, which were characteristic of her Betazoid heritage, lingered on his face for a long moment. Neither of them spoke.

"Justin. How nice to see you again, my dear," she said at last. "You look well. Obviously the way you've spent the last six months agrees with you."

Tighe didn't acknowledge her statement, or the innuendo behind it. "You ordered me to come today, Chloe. I'm here. What do you want?"

She glided over to him. "Such impatience," she said softly and brushed her fingertips lightly over his face in what was almost a caress. Almost. One didn't have to go far to find the iron fist within the velvet glove. "There was once a time, Justin, when you enjoyed spending time with me."

"Once. But as you’re so fond of pointing out, things have a way of changing."

She laughed. "Oh, but your latest fancy must have you on a tight leash. I hesitate to call her a conquest, when you appear to be the one who's been vanquished." She circled him, invading his personal space, and laughed again, this time mockingly. "Justin Tighe, domesticated at last."

He held himself completely still, willing his body not to respond even though he knew she was aware of his thoughts.

Satisfied, she perched on the edge of her desk and crossed her long legs. "Don't think I'm displeased, darling. On the contrary, I'm delighted to see you so...settled. And with the daughter of a Starfleet admiral, of all people. The situation may work out to our advantage."

"What do you mean?" he said, a sudden edge to his voice. His relationship with Kathryn had nothing to do with the Section, and he was determined to keep it that way.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she smiled. "I understand you and your beloved are planning a romantic getaway to Risa in the next week."

"That's right."

"Risa is such a delightful place, don't you think? One has the opportunity to meet the most interesting people." She poured herself a drink from the crystal decanter nearby. She took a sip, and then put down her glass. "I’ve got a little job for you.”

"I’m on leave," he said brusquely. “Surely you haven’t forgotten what that means?”

“Yes, you’re on leave following the successful conclusion of your mission. The official one, of course.” She paused. “We both know what happened during the ‘unofficial’ one. Not exactly a resounding success, was it?”

He strove to keep his voice level, despite his anger at her implication. “The destruction of the Cardassian base on Urtea II disrupted their covert surveillance network on the nearby Starfleet installations,” he said. “If I’m not mistaken, that was the desired outcome.”

“I find it interesting how you left out certain ‘complications’,” Chloe pointed out, “such as the hostage situation. Or how the attempt to rescue said hostages nearly resulted in your death.”

Tighe didn’t flinch. “‘Almost’ doesn’t count. We rescued the hostages and destroyed the base. None of our people died. End of story.”

“I’ve always admired your spirit,” she said, not unapprovingly. “And of course, you are not _entirely_ to blame for Owen Paris’ interference in your mission, which directly led to the hostages being taken in the first place.” She paused, as if to let her words sink in. “At any rate, here’s your chance to make up for your earlier _faux pas_.” 

Her insinuations of failure rankled; Chloe knew quite well there was no such thing as a mission that went exactly according to plan. “So this is related to Urtea II?”

“No, this is a one-off. And on Risa, so it shouldn’t inconvenience you _too_ much.” 

“I prefer not mixing business with pleasure,” Tighe shot back.

Chloe laughed. “Very funny, darling, considering that’s exactly how you’ve conducted yourself throughout your entire career. Including on your most recent mission. After all, isn’t that how you became involved with Kathryn?” She slipped off the desk and came over to where he was standing. He could smell the perfume she usually favored, something light and tinged with cinnamon. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she leaned forward and murmured into his ear, "Here’s what I want you to do..."  
***

Kathryn stood in front of the open sliding doors of their suite, attired only in a light shift that left her legs bare to mid-thigh, watching the waves roll in to the shore. The Risan sun shone brightly, and birdsong filled the air. The air itself carried a tang of salt mingled with the heavier scent of the creeping flower vines which grew everywhere, even spilling over into their bedroom.

She sighed with contentment. "It’s so beautiful here. You were right--this is probably as close to paradise as we'll ever get."

"I'm glad you like it," Tighe said, languidly observing her from the bed. "I think the view is pretty great, too."

Kathryn smiled at his not-so-subtle meaning, but picked up her hairbrush and brushed her long hair, then began coiling and pinning it on top of her head.

He sat up. “Going somewhere?”

“I made an appointment for the mud baths this morning, remember?” she said as she opened a drawer in preparation of getting dressed.

He got out of bed and stood just behind her. “Ah, yes, that’s right.” He turned her around to face him.

“You said you weren’t interested in joining me,” she said, as she put her arms around him and gave him a quick kiss.

"In a mud bath, no,” he answered, his lips moving down the side of her neck. One hand undid the belt of her shift while the other loosened her hair.

She attempted to twist away. "Justin! I just finished putting my hair up!"

"So? You can always do it again later," he said, looking up momentarily. Despite her annoyed tone, there was a definite smile in her eyes.

Kathryn sighed, obviously reconciling herself to the inevitable, and shifted her body closer. "You do realize we've barely left this room since we got here a week ago. I can see it now, our vacation will be over, and I'll have seen no more of Risa than these four walls."

"Is that a problem?" he inquired, his hand moving lower in slow, languorous circles.

"I suppose not," she whispered.

He slid her robe off her shoulders, then starting at her neck, began kissing his way down her body until he reached her hips. He knelt before her and spread her legs, then found her clit with his tongue. She moaned, softly at first, then louder as he used hands and mouth and tongue until she climaxed. He lifted her on to the bed and made love to her in earnest, thrusting deeply inside her until she climaxed again.

Lying in his arms afterward, Kathryn stroked his chest lazily. “I wonder…”

“Yes?” he said as he turned to her with a smile.

“If I went to the spa now, do you think they could fit me in, even though my appointment was two hours ago?”

He laughed. “ _That’s_ what you were wondering about?”

She sat up, her hair falling over her shoulders in glorious waves that shone in the mid-afternoon sun. “Why, are you disappointed?”

“I should have known that even though you can be ‘distracted’ for a bit, you’d never allow anything to permanently come between you and your baths.” He made shooing motions with his hands. “Go, I’m sure they’ll fit you in.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” She pulled on an emerald green bikini and sandals, and this time did her hair in a simple twist at the nape of her neck. 

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” he asked casually.

She paused on the threshold. “About two or three hours, I believe. What will you do while I’m away?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find something to keep myself busy.”

“No women,” she warned him teasingly.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one.”

After Kathryn left, Tighe got out of bed and showered and dressed. The expedient thing would have been to let her leave earlier as she’d planned; he knew quite well he couldn’t keep putting this off for much longer. He glanced at the chrono. Two hours should be enough time to carry out his assignment.

He promised himself that this would be the last time. One more job for the Section, and that would be it. Then he could be the man that Kathryn thought he was.  
***

Unlike the other times he'd been summoned into her presence, Chloe was not alone. Luther Sloan was a silent witness to the proceedings, but Tighe reflexively dismissed him. He'd always considered Sloan as little more than an annoyance, a mere errand boy. 

“So Daimon Moq has been neutralized?” Chloe asked idly as she caressed a small yet exquisite _objet d’arte_ on the highly polished mahogany side table.

Tighe’s lip curled at her careful euphemism. “He was found in his space yacht by his pilot five days ago. Apparently, he was alone and suffered a heart attack. The medical examiner determined there was no reason to suspect any foul play."

“Well done.” She smiled. “Now, as for your next assignment—"

“There isn’t going to be a next assignment,” Tighe interrupted. “I’m done.”

Her eyes hardened but her tone remained light as she said, “Done?” 

“I mean I’m quitting the Section, effective immediately.”

Her eyes never left his. "Leave us, Luther." Wordlessly, Sloan complied.

As soon as the door closed, Chloe came closer, until she was standing just inches away. 

“You tried resigning once before, as I recall, after you were a ‘guest’ of Cardassian hospitality a few years back.”

Tighe clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “You mean when I managed to escape from that Cardassian hell-hole, after the Section decided to just leave me there to _die_?”

“A question of semantics,” she said, waving away his words. “But despite your little temper tantrum then, you eventually came back. As you will this time.”

“This time it’s different.” He couldn’t resist adding brutally, “Whatever you think, you don’t own me, Chloe.”

“Certain ties run deep.”

“Not anymore.”

She searched his face carefully. "You're serious about this resignation, are you? You think you can just walk away, whenever you please?"

"I'm through doing your dirty work, Chloe," he said heatedly. "I've lied, cheated, stolen--I've even killed for you. But no more."

"Not for me, Justin," she whispered. "For the good of the Federation, remember?"

He didn't bother to conceal his contempt. "Cut the bullshit. For the good of the Section. You never gave a damn about the greater good."

Her expression didn’t flicker. “Come, come, darling. That’s just your anger talking. Or are you saying that _you_ didn’t have the best interests of the Federation at heart, either, that everything you did was _only_ for yourself? So you could advance in rank more quickly than the bastard son of a drunken miner could ever hope for. And so you could rid yourself of the pain---and unleash the feelings you try to keep bottled up deep inside." Her lips were at his ear. "I _know_ you, Justin. I know who you really are, and what you want."

His nostrils flared at the sudden scent of cinnamon, evoking memories of long ago. He felt her warm breath on his skin, felt the sharpness of her nails as she turned his face to hers and kissed him, hard. For an instant he responded; then he grabbed her wrists and savagely wrenched her away.

"Not this time, you bitch! I'm not interested in playing your little games anymore." His hands were still on her arms in a bruising grip. His breathing sounded heavy in his own ears.

"Aren't you?" She didn't fight him, instead snaked her hands down his arms, down his chest to his crotch. She fondled him for a moment through the cloth, then quickly knelt in front of him and began undoing the opening to his trousers.

He grabbed her head, intending to push her away, but instead gasped as she took him into her mouth. He moaned as she began working around the head of his cock with her tongue, her hand cupping and stroking his balls. She was an expert at this, and despite himself, he found himself pulling her closer, writhing with guilty pleasure, submitting to and enjoying her ministrations. _I know what you want_. He hated her for what she was doing, but not as much as he hated himself--God help him, he wanted this, wanted her enough to throw her down on the floor and take her right there, forgetting everything else but the burning desire growing within him. With a strangled groan, he came, spurting deeply into the back of her throat. With his last bit of resolve he roughly threw her aside.

Her eyes blazed with triumph as she calmly picked herself up off the floor and wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

He shoved his still hard member back inside his pants. "God damn you, Chloe."

He turned to go, couldn't leave that room fast enough. The last thing he heard was her mocking, "Give my regards to your bride."


	2. Chapter 2

Tighe surreptitiously ran his finger under the collar of the formal tuxedo jacket he wore. It felt unnaturally tight, and he wondered if it was the cut that made it so uncomfortable or just nerves. He looked across the ballroom, and felt marginally better when he caught sight of Kathryn. In a long ivory gown, her hair caught up in a chignon and studded with seed pearls, Kathryn looked absolutely stunning even at this distance. He smiled, hoping to catch her eye.

Gretchen Janeway bustled by at that moment, looking quite elegant herself in her midnight blue gown. Kathryn’s mother was in her element, the gracious hostess at her daughter’s wedding reception. Kathryn had initially wanted something simpler, and as a result, a much smaller ceremony had taken place at the Starfleet Command chapel in San Francisco a few days earlier, officiated by Admiral Owen Paris. When they had first discussed wedding plans, Tighe hadn’t been too happy about the Admiral’s participation, but Kathryn had insisted. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so antagonistic toward the Admiral,” she’d said. “He’s been a wonderful mentor to me since my days at the Academy. Admiral Paris has always had a very high opinion of you, and I know he is fond of you.” 

Tighe flashed back to Admiral Paris’s interference in his covert mission aboard the _Icarus_ , as well as his ongoing possessive behavior toward Kathryn. He frowned.

“Let me give you some advice, son,” Edward Janeway said lightly, perhaps in an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Never get between Kathryn and something she wants.”

“I know the Admiral is important to Kathryn, sir,” Tighe responded. And so he had given in. 

One interesting revelation that had come out of this discussion had been the discovery Gretchen didn’t particularly care for Owen Paris, either. “At least if he’s officiating, he won’t try to give away the bride as well,” she’d muttered. At Tighe’s surprised look, she’d continued. “Though Edward will never admit it bothers him, there’s no denying Owen has definitely usurped his role as Kathryn’s father at times.”

Tighe’s lip curled as he recalled that conversation now. He would have bet anything that “father” was not the role Owen _really_ wanted with Kathryn. There had been too many instances on the _Icarus_ when the two of them, middle-aged Admiral and young female Ensign, were sequestered in private meetings behind closed cabin doors. Not to mention the ill-fated shuttle ride the two had shared that had ended with their capture by the Cardassians. When he’d raised this issue with Kathryn afterward, she’d protested he was totally misconstruing the situation. 

Well, if Owen Paris _did_ harbor romantic or sexual feelings toward his protégée, he’d given no outward signs of it as he conducted the simple ceremony and pronounced them husband and wife. 

Tighe took a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray. As he took a sip, he glanced down at the broad gold band on his left hand. 

“It’s not a universal Human custom to wear a wedding ring,” he’d pointed out when Kathryn had first broached the subject. 

“But it is a Terran custom,” she countered, “At least, if you’re Traditionalists, which is what my family is.” Her eyes met his entreatingly. “Please, Justin. I really want you to wear this ring as a symbol of our love and our commitment to each other.”

Once again, Tighe had given in. It _was_ a nice piece of jewelry, a match to Kathryn’s own ring, and Kathryn had insisted on having their names and the date engraved on the inner surface. “Though maybe I should have had yours engraved with, ‘put it back on’,” she’d teased.

Back in the present, Tighe scanned the room again. When Gretchen had first brought up the idea of holding a reception in Indiana and asked who he would like to invite, he explained he had no family and it was unlikely any of his friends would be able to take leave to attend. Now, in the midst of so many of the Janeways’ friends, relatives, and neighbors, he felt like an outsider. 

To his relief, he spotted Kathryn threading her way through the crowd until she reached him. 

“Miss me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said emphatically. 

She squeezed his hand comfortingly, and then turned around and smiled as a fair-haired man of medium build approached.

“Mark!” Kathryn let go of Tighe’s hand to clasp that of the new arrival. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“How could I miss something as momentous as the wedding of Kathryn Janeway?” Mark said, with a fond smile. He directed his next words to Tighe. “I’m Mark Johnson. It’s good to finally meet you, Justin.”

“Mark is an old childhood friend,” Kathryn said.

“Pleased to meet you,” Tighe said and held out his hand. He felt an undeniable satisfaction that Mark had to let go of Kathryn’s hand to shake his.

“So you’re the man who won Kathryn’s heart,” Mark continued. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”

“I certainly do,” Tighe said, returning the other man’s gaze evenly. 

“Make sure you keep her happy,” Mark said. He turned back to Kathryn. “Kath, I wish you all the best in your life together.”

Tighe watched Mark walk over to another group that included Kathryn’s sister Phoebe. He thought there was something a little off in Mark’s manner, but then decided he was being paranoid, assuming all these men in Kathryn’s life wanted something more from her. He reminded himself again that she had chosen _him_. 

As the band began to play, its leader announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present our bride and groom for their official first dance!”

Smiling, Tighe and Kathryn stepped out on the dance floor together, and so their married life began.  
***

Janeway straightened her blue science uniform as she glanced around the bedroom of their apartment a final time, checking to see if she’d forgotten anything. Satisfied she hadn’t, she picked up her duffel bag and went into the main living area.

Justin looked up from the newsreader. Like her, he, too, was in uniform - the gold of engineering. “All set?”

“Yes.” She debated whether or not she had time for one more cup of coffee, and regretfully decided against it. 

He came over to her and held out his arms. She rested her head against his chest and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Justin asked softly. “I thought you were excited about your assignment on the _Artemis_.”

“I am,” she replied immediately. “It’s a great opportunity for me.”

“But…” he prompted.

“But I can’t believe I’m shipping out less than a week after our wedding.”

“We both knew coming in that’s what a career in Starfleet entails,” Justin reminded her. “I’m going to miss you too, but at least it’s only a three month tour.”

“With the option of extending for a year,” she automatically added. “But you’re right, it’s only going to be a few months until we see each other again.”

"At least we got the honeymoon in," he murmured as he kissed her.

She pulled back slightly and gave him a look. "Yes, _before_ the wedding," she said pointedly.

"Well, your mother wanted to host that elaborate reception, so that's just how the timing worked out."

“I guess.” Janeway reached up and smoothed back an errant lock of hair that fell over his forehead. Justin would also be going soon, as he had accepted a position at Utopia Planitia. “When are you leaving?”

“I’ll be catching the shuttle to Mars this afternoon.” If Justin felt any apprehension about his abrupt change in career paths, he gave no indication. Janeway knew only the bare minimum about Justin’s covert role aboard the _Icarus_ , let alone specifics about the Rangers, the elite Starfleet strike force he’d served in, but she had been glad when he’d told her he’d handed in his resignation, effective immediately. 

Upon hearing this, Edward Janeway, the head of the Starship Design and Fabrication department, had immediately offered him a position. Justin had hesitated, perhaps afraid of taking advantage of his new family connections, but Edward had assured him he was more than qualified on the strength of his engineering skills, which Janeway had gladly attested to. Truth be told, she was delighted at the thought of the two men she loved most working together.

Her comm badge beeped, reminding her it was time to leave. 

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you to the transport station?” he asked.

“No, it’s only a short distance away, and besides, I know you need to get ready yourself,” Janeway replied. She kissed Justin one last time, then picked up her duffel.

“It’s too bad we didn’t have a chance to decorate and make this a real home,” she said, looking around the sparely furnished apartment. The few pieces they did have had come with the apartment and were not to either of their tastes. It was the first non-Starfleet housing either of them had lived in since their respective Academy days. 

“We can do it together when you’re back on leave,” he promised.

“It’s a deal,” she said and smiled.  
***

Later that afternoon, Tighe was on board the shuttle to Utopia Planitia. 

As he settled into the passenger lounge, he glanced around reflexively at the passengers. He recognized no one, so he marginally relaxed. Since his abrupt departure from her presence, he hadn’t heard from Chloe, or anyone else from the Section, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he had finally managed to break free of them.

Edward’s job offer had come as a complete surprise, but Tighe had gratefully seized on it. Thinking back to the time he had first met the Janeways, he recalled his excitement when Edward had shown him the schematics of a new fighter jet, intended for use by the Starfleet Rangers strike force. He grinned sardonically at the memory; even in the top echelons of Starfleet Command, few if any people were aware the Rangers were simply a front for Section 31. 

In Edwards’s study at the Janeway home in Indiana, Tighe had questioned some schematic details and had been intrigued by the Admiral’s answers. Of course, Edward hadn’t promised he had an open position specifically on the design team working on the fighter, let alone that there would be an opportunity to do some test-pilot runs, but for the moment, Tighe was content to dream about the possibilities.  
***

Utopia Planitia was a huge installation which covered 35,000 square kilometers. It contained vast shipyards, including Mars Station which turned in synchronous orbit high above the planet surface, as well as offices and residential areas which housed nearly 500,000 individuals. Utopia Planitia was self-contained and separate from Mars Colony proper and its population of seven million.

At the space port, Tighe disembarked from the shuttle along with a score of others, mostly Starfleet personnel although there were a few civilians present. Stopping only long enough to study a wall map and get his bearings, he confidently made his way to the mag-lev ‘tube which took him directly to the main building in the Design and Fabrication complex. He presented himself to the security officer at the front desk.

“Lieutenant Justin Tighe,” he said, “Newly assigned to UP.”

The crisp young ensign entered some commands into his console and then nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant. You are to report to Commander Orfil Quinteros. Floor 58, suite 11C.”

Tighe frowned. He hadn’t assumed he would report directly to Edward—in fact, that probably smacked of privilege and a level of awkwardness he could do without—but he was still surprised. “Commander Quinteros?” he said.

“Yes,” said the ensign. “The commander is the head of the _Galaxy_ Class Starship Development Project.”

“I see,” Tighe said, but the ensign had already turned to the next person in the queue. Tighe mentally shrugged and walked rapidly toward the vast turbolift banks.

Quniteros was seated behind his desk when Tighe entered the room. Tall and balding, he had a clipped salt and pepper beard and heavy brows. His red uniform, signifying command, was neatly pressed. Tighe immediately summed him up as a bureaucrat, not an engineer.

“Lieutenant Tighe, reporting for duty, sir.”

Quinteros nodded briefly and kept his gaze on the monitor in front of him. He made no move to stand, let alone offer a handshake of welcome. At last, the commander said. “I see from your service record that you have no experience whatsoever in design, though you _have_ held a series of relatively low-level field engineering posts.” A corner of his mouth went down as if he found his reading distasteful. “You started out in Security.”

“Yes, sir,” Tighe replied. “I served as an enlisted security officer prior to attending the Academy where I majored in engineering, with a concentration in subspace warp field dynamics. I think you’ll find me more than qualified.”

Quinteros grunted. “That remains to be seen.” He entered a series of commands. “The _Galaxy_ class project, slated to replace the old _Ambassador_ line, is _the_ most important thing we have going on at UP at present. In the past 18 months, two vessels have been commissioned, with the _Yamato_ and _Enterprise_ set to follow in the next two years. The majority of the ship construction, design work and system model tests, is based in Drafting Room 5, on Mars Station.”

Tighe nodded.

“I’ve assigned you to Design Team 7, under Dr. Brahms. They’re working on the subspace warp field propulsion units on the _Enterprise_.” Quinteros finally looked up, his gaze unfriendly. “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Janeway.”

Tighe stiffened imperceptibly, but said easily, “It’s Tighe, sir. Justin Tighe. Lieutenant Janeway is my wife.”

“Right,” said Quinteros. “You’re Admiral Janeway’s son-in-law.” His manner made it very clear he thought Tighe’s assignment to the _Galaxy_ -class project was strictly due to nepotism, not ability.   
Tighe was stung, but knew he had no choice but to swallow the slight. It would take some time, but he vowed to establish himself in his own right.  
***

Three days later, Tighe was in the break room getting a cup of coffee when Dr. Leah Brahms came in. Although she was his nominal team leader, he hadn’t seen much of her since his first day, when she had been supervising implementation of the improved subspace field generators. He had spent his time since then studying schematics and generally getting up to speed. He’d been surprised to see she was a civilian contractor, but at least she’d proved to be more welcoming than Quinteros. 

Now she pulled up a seat next to him. “Settling in all right?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He had noticed that Dr. Brahms appeared to favor dresses instead of the more common slacks or jump suits worn by the non-military workers. Her dark hair was drawn back into a smooth knot at the nape of her neck and she wore discreet gold studs in her earlobes.

Brahms smiled warmly and took a sip from her mug of tea. “Good. Is your primary homebase on Mars colony?”

“No, I’ve—we’ve--got an apartment in San Francisco, but I’m currently staying in the Station BOQ.”

“As you’ll see, most of the team clears out on weekends, so I guess you’ll be heading to Earth then, too.” She nodded toward his left hand. “How long have you been married?”

“Just a couple of weeks, actually.” 

“I assume your wife is in Starfleet as well?” At his nod, Brahms asked, “Where is she stationed?”

“Kathryn’s a science officer on board the _Artemis_.” 

“Kathryn. That’s a lovely name.”

“She’s a lovely person.”

“It must be hard being separated,” Brahms said sympathetically.

Never one to show his feelings overtly, Tighe shrugged. “It’s Starfleet, that’s what you sign up for.” 

Brahms took another drink of tea. “I’ve seen a lot of Starfleet personnel come and go during my time at UP,” she said thoughtfully. “It takes a certain type to be willing to put up with the separations and other pressures that come along with the service, and that’s for couples with only one member in Starfleet. Add in children, and it’s even more difficult. The net result, of course, is that many don’t even try, and even fewer succeed.” As she put her empty mug on the table, a simple platinum band on her own left ring finger caught the light. “I have to say, I’m glad my husband is also a civilian contractor here.”

“Is he also involved in the _Galaxy_ project?”

“No, no, he’s in a different department. He works in Logistics.” 

Tighe nodded, unsure of what to say.

Brahms stood. “Well, Lieutenant, it seems like you’re fitting in well. I’ve already heard from other members on the team that you seem to be a quick study.” She paused. “We’ve got good people, but if you have any issues, don’t hesitate to let me know. It’s in my best interest to make sure all the people on my team are happy and working at their best.”

Tighe watched Brahms leave. Her meaning had been crystal clear. Everyone knew he had come in as Admiral Janeway’s son-in-law, instead of on his own merits. He would have to work that much harder to dispel the impression most people had of him.

He considered what he knew about his team leader. He had read a few of Brahms’ published papers in the last day or two, and had gained a healthy respect for her knowledge of warp systems. From the conversation they’d just had, he could see that she was good at managing people as well. 

He was still in the early stages of getting to know his teammates – they were mainly ensigns and junior grade lieutenants, and it didn’t seem like any of them had any field experience to date. He basically had nothing in common with them but he sensed that Brahms could be a kindred soul. For all that she was a civilian, she still had a good intuition for the practical aspects of their designs. On the other hand, she _was_ the team leader and he was wary of crossing any boundaries, especially in the beginning. 

Tighe’s previous assignments had been mostly short term postings, window-dressing for undercover missions for Section 31. This had sharply curtailed his ability to make friends with his fellow crewmembers and so his platonic relationships were few and far between. As for romantic dalliances, in the past, he hadn’t been above looking for a temporary something on the side. But of course, he was married now, so a fling was not an option. 

Now that he’d gone mainstream, the rules were different and he was determined to abide by them.  
***

Tighe was finishing up his work late on Friday afternoon when his comm badge signaled. “Tighe here.”

“Hello, Justin,” Kathryn’s father said. “How was your first week?”

“Pretty good, sir,” Tighe said, masking his surprise at being contacted by his father-in-law.

“Are you up to speed yet?”

“I believe so, sir, though I haven’t had much of a chance for anything hands-on yet.”

“Well, you’re still settling in, so that’s to be expected.” Tighe imagined the Admiral sitting in his study at home, still wearing his uniform despite the late hour. “Are you planning on returning to Earth for the weekend?”

As Brahms had predicted, most of Drafting Room 5 had emptied out earlier in the day, leaving only a skeleton staff on weekend duty. The thought of going back to San Francisco without Kathryn there wasn’t very appealing, but on the other hand, the apartment _was_ bigger and more comfortable than his quarters on UP, and there was certainly more varied and available entertainment on Earth than on Mars. “Yes, sir, I will probably catch the last evening shuttle.”

“Good,” Edward said. “I want to apologize for not getting over to see you at UP. My only excuse is I haven’t been on Mars. In fact, I’ve been in San Francisco all week in meetings.”

Tighe wondered what kind of reply he was expected to make to that statement. “That’s all right, sir. I imagine you’ve been pretty busy.” 

Edward chuckled. “That’s an understatement if there ever was one.” He cleared his throat. “Since you’re planning on being on Earth, I also wanted to tell you that Gretchen wants to invite you for Sunday lunch or maybe dinner, so you won’t be _too_ lonely without Kathryn.”

Automatically, Tighe replied, “That’s very kind of you, sir, but I’ve already got plans for the day.” Kathryn’s parents were perfectly nice and welcoming, but he didn’t feel comfortable socializing with them, especially without Kathryn present.

“Yes, I expected as much. Well, perhaps another time.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Have a nice weekend, son.”  
***

Later that evening, when he entered the apartment he shared with Kathryn, the first thing Tighe did was to check his messages, but there was nothing from Kathryn. He hadn’t really expected one, as they had just spoken that morning before he went on duty. She was happy so far with her assignment. The head of her Astrometrics team, Commander Sirtis, had been very welcoming, and Kathryn had been excitedly looking forward to her first duty shift on the bridge.

His footsteps seemed unnaturally loud in the mostly empty apartment. Despite what he’d said to Edward about having plans, he was not too sure how he was going to spend his leisure time over the next two days. 

As he took a long hydro-shower and then got a bite to eat from the replicator, he considered the possibilities. He could go hiking in the Sierras, or maybe do some sightseeing in France. Kathryn had spoken of doing both when she was a cadet. 

In his own Academy days, he had spent his weekends primarily studying or flying, or occasionally going to bars with some of his classmates. It was in the Academy that he had first experienced the thrill of piloting a craft, and he had worked hard over the years to attain, and then maintain, a Level V pilot’s rating. He smiled; yes, he would definitely see about getting in some flying this weekend. 

The next morning, Tighe settled back into the pilot’s seat of the small surface-to-space craft. One quick run through of the pre-flight checks, and then he was airborne. The ground dipped away from him and at 50 miles above Earth, the blue of the atmosphere faded to the black of space. He breathed deeply, feeling free for the first time in months.

All in all, he was not _too_ unhappy with his current situation. The work on the _Enterprise_ warp engines seemed like it would be interesting, if a little perfunctory. But at least he didn’t have to worry about being off planet when Kathryn returned from her tour of duty on board the _Artemis_.  
***

_Three months later_

Janeway let herself into the apartment, glad to be home after being away so long. Granted, it had only been a three month tour, but it was harder than expected to be away from Justin for that amount of time. This had been their longest separation since their time on the _Icarus_. They spoke on average two or three times a week, but it was a poor substitute for physical proximity.

She dropped her bag on the floor and glanced around the empty apartment. Even though she’d known it was unlikely, she had half-expected him to meet her at the space port. She hadn’t been too surprised not to see him there, but at the very least she’d hoped he would already be home when she arrived.

She stretched and rubbed her neck, feeling the stiffness of being in transit for 15 straight hours. Well, while she waited for Justin, she could take a nice long bath and unpack.

She crossed the threshold of the bedroom just as the bathroom door swung open and Justin stepped out, naked and damp from the shower. 

“Kathryn!” he said, clearly glad to see her; she grinned as she saw the physical evidence for herself. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” she said as she moved into his arms. “I thought you weren’t home yet.” She looked into his eyes, seeing the love and welcome there, and felt like she could lose herself in their dark green depths.

He bent his head and kissed her, pulled her closer. “Welcome home.”

She moved away a bit, but only to remove her jacket and shirt. He knelt at her feet and helped her remove her boots, then watched as she pulled off her remaining clothes. He stood and pulled her toward the bed. He kissed her again, long slow kisses that quickly became heated as she leaned back against the pillows and gave him an inviting smile. He needed no further encouragement.

They made love, glorying in the touch and feel of each other’s bodies, the rising passion and then release after their long separation. After a few moments’ rest, Janeway reached down and stroked his cock, delighting to feel it spring upward once more beneath her touch. With one quick movement of her hips, she straddled him and began to rock slowly back and forth. He reached up and took her breasts in his hands, kissing and sucking first one and then the other. She moved faster and faster, crying out his name as she came. Seconds later he came as well, and she slumped against him, feeling suddenly spent.

He smoothed her hair back from her face, running his fingers through the long strands. She felt him stirring again below, and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I know you missed me, and we’ve got about three months’ worth of passion to make up for, but I didn’t think we were going to do it all in one night!”

“You wish,” he said teasingly.

She raised her head to look at him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He exhaled. “Speaking of time apart, you weren’t too sure how many days of leave you’d have. When do you have to ship out once more?”

She took a deep breath, preparatory to sharing her big news. “As you know, I only signed on for a three month stint on board the _Artemis_.”

“They’re not picking up the full year option?” he said, with a slight frown. “Is everything all right?”

“They offered, but I decided not to take them up on it.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I’m going to Command School.” At his surprised look, she added, “The new intake is next week.”

He sat up and looked at her for a long moment. “I don’t understand. You’re going to Command School? When did you decide this?”

She sat up as well. “I’ve been considering it for a few months. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but—”

“Kathryn, you’re science track,” he interrupted. “Ever since I’ve known you, that’s all you ever talked about. You get more excited about decaying neutron stars than most people are about winning the lottery. Switching tracks like this is--” He broke off and repeated, “When did you decide this?” 

She caught his unspoken implication, ‘without asking me?’ “Well, a few months ago, after the incident at Urtea II, Admiral Paris said--”

“Admiral Paris?” Justin’s head reared back violently. “ _Paris_ talked you into this? Since when does he know, let alone have a say in, what you want to do with your life?!” 

She bristled at his tone. “What do you mean? Do you think I don’t know my own mind, that he pushed me into this decision?”

“Do you have a better explanation?” Justin said heatedly. He had never hidden his opinions about the Admiral, but Janeway couldn’t help thinking that his reaction now was way over the top. 

Perhaps Justin realized this, as he quickly backtracked. “Kathryn, this just makes no sense to me. You’ve always only wanted a career in science.” 

“And in Starfleet,” she reminded him tersely. “The initial suggestion was from Admiral Paris, but no one had to talk me into making this decision and I’ve had a lot of time over the last three months to think about it. This is what _I_ want,” she said emphatically. “A move like this will be very good for my career. Instead of just doing grunt work, carrying out someone else’s orders, as a commander or even captain, _I_ can be the one making the decisions, to coordinate individual contributions into the greater whole.” 

“I can’t envision you ordering someone to do something instead of doing it yourself,” he shot back.

She bit back the hot words that bubbled up. Striving to keep her voice even, she said, “Yes, there will be a certain amount of delegation, but as captain of my own vessel, I’ll be able to actually do more exploration, make more scientific discoveries.”

“Well, you’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?” he said coolly.

“There are other upsides to this as well,” Janeway pointed out. “For one thing, I’ll be staying on Earth for the next six months.” She looked at him for a long moment. “Aren’t you happy about that?” 

“I suppose,” he said grudgingly, and the argument was diffused.  
 


	3. Chapter 3

When Tighe came home, he found Kathryn asleep on the sofa, one arm flung outward, the other tucked against her chest. Not surprising; six weeks into her Command training course, her days were long and grueling. He carefully sat on the edge of the sofa and watched her chest rise and fall with regularity, her expression peaceful. When awake, she was constantly in motion, setting sights on her next goal and how best to accomplish it. Now she was still. Careful not to wake her, he tenderly reached out and smoothed back the long auburn hair from her face.

Officially, they were living together in the apartment in San Francisco. The reality was a bit different, as Tighe was on Mars during the week. As for Kathryn, she spent most of her time at the training base out in the Mojave Desert, and only came home one out of every two weekends. 

As time passed, Tighe had found his first impression of his post at UP was correct. Used to the adrenaline rush of his covert work for Section 31, he was still finding it hard to adjust to what was basically a 9 to 5 job. Always a loner, he frequently worked double shifts just to keep busy. He hadn’t made close friends among his coworkers, but his tentative rapport with Leah Brahms had developed into a mutually respectful friendship, and he’d also become acquainted with a few people in other departments with whom he occasionally grabbed lunch or a drink after work. 

Most importantly, as time went on and he became better known to the other engineers at Mars Station, he heard fewer references to his relationship to the head of Fabrication and Design. 

Kathryn stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw him.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, and lightly brushed his lips against hers.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“About half an hour.”

“You should’ve woken me,” she said, stretching, and then sat up.

“You looked like you really needed the sleep.”

She yawned. “What time is it? We probably should get ready to go to my parents’ for dinner.”

Keeping his voice carefully neutral, Tighe said, “About that…we don’t have to go out to Indiana every weekend you’re home, you know.” He waited to see her reaction.

“I like seeing my parents,” she said immediately, as he’d known she would. “It’s one of the perks of being in Command School that I can spend time on Earth and get together with my family on a regular basis.”

“And see your husband.” He leaned over and kissed her. “We don’t _have_ to leave right away,” he said cajolingly as he stroked his hand over the curve of her hips. “I’m sure they won’t mind if we’re a little late.”

She attempted to stand, but he gently pushed her back against the pillows. She sighed in mock resignation. “Here? Wouldn’t you rather go to the bedroom?”

“We haven’t properly inaugurated the new couch,” he said as he slipped his hand inside the waistband of her pants. “Or the new rug we got the last time you were home.”

“Those are very good points,” she said, and then there was no more talking.  
***

In the Janeways’ formal dining room, Justin pushed away his empty plate and dropped his linen napkin beside it. “The lamb stew was wonderful,” he said.

Gretchen beamed. “I’m glad _someone_ finally appreciated it,” she said.

Kathryn and Justin exchanged puzzled looks. From his seat at the head of the heavy mahogany table, Edward didn’t say anything but the corners of his mouth lifted a bit.

Phoebe sighed. “Mom made the same lamb dish when I brought Pablo home a couple of weeks ago.”

“Unfortunately, she didn't tell me he was a vegan,” Gretchen added tartly.

“I didn't know,” protested Phoebe.

“How could you not know he was a vegan?” Kathryn asked incredulously.

“We don't exactly spend our time together going out to eat.”

“What do you spend your time doing, then?” Kathryn asked, and then colored when she realized what Phoebe had meant. She hastily stood and carried the main serving platter back into the kitchen.

Phoebe followed her a few seconds later, with the salad bowl. “Did I embarrass you, Kathryn?” she asked with a grin. “Sorry, but I thought that being married to ‘Mr. Sex on a Stick’ would have made you less prone to embarrassment about this kind of thing.”

“At least I know what he does and doesn't eat,” Janeway retorted.

“I bet you do,” Phoebe said, her eyes dancing with mischief. “No wonder you two are always late every time you come for dinner.”

Kathryn busied herself at the sink. “I am _not_ going to discuss my sex life with you.” 

“But you’re happy, right? Sex aside, of course.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Phoebe grabbed a dish towel and began drying. “After he swept you off your feet, I was hoping there was something more substantial to your relationship.”

“‘Swept me off my feet?’”

“After he rescued you, and Admiral Paris, when you were taken hostage by the Cardassians,” Phoebe clarified. “Your own personal knight in shining armor, swooping in and saving you. I don’t blame you for falling for him.”

“There are a lot of reasons I fell for him,” Kathryn said quietly. “That was just one factor in many.”

“Such as?”

“His devotion to duty, the way he’s always striving to do more, his integrity, his brilliance—” 

“And of course, the way he makes your toes curl,” said Phoebe knowingly.

“He does do that,” Kathryn conceded. She hastily changed the subject. “So, how serious are you and Pablo?”

“Not very.”

“But you brought him home for dinner,” Kathryn said, confused.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “He happened to be over at my place when Mom called and asked if I wanted to come by. So I brought him along with me, not thinking that Mom would instantly jump to the conclusion that he was my ‘Mr. Right’, instead of my ‘Mr. Right Now.’” She paused. “It’s all your fault, you know. Ever since you brought Justin home to meet the folks, they’ve been positively itching for me to do the same.”

Kathryn laughed. “Well, whenever you _are_ ready to settle down, I can certainly endorse married life.”

“Glad to hear.” Phoebe hesitated. “Aren't you ever worried he might stray? After all, you _do_ spend a lot of time apart.”

“No,” Janeway said immediately. “I trust him. I know Justin would never betray me.” She added, “Sex is important, but it’s not _the_ most important part of a relationship. Our marriage is built on a lot more than just that.”

Phoebe looked at her a long moment. “I certainly hope so.”  
***

Sitting at the table with his in-laws, Tighe felt uncomfortable, but was reluctant to go join Kathryn and Phoebe in the kitchen, where snatches of their conversation could be overheard. Never one for small talk, he tried to think of something to say but came up empty.

The silence was becoming a bit awkward when Edward’s comm beeped. He immediately stood and said, “Excuse me, I’ve been waiting for this call. I’ll take it in the study.”

Tighe turned to Gretchen and said, “I really did like the stew.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Thank you.”

“I appreciate all the effort you go to whenever we come over,” he said. “And I know that Kathryn is really happy that she gets to see you so often.”

Gretchen smiled. “It’s nice that you’re making so much of an effort yourself, Justin.” At his bemused expression, she said, “I can tell how you _really_ feel about coming out to Indiana so often.” 

Tighe stiffened, wondering if he’d made a major misstep. “What I meant was--”

Gretchen waved his words away and continued. “Here you are, still relative newlyweds, and you don’t get to spend much time together due to the demands of Starfleet. Because of this, I suppose it _is_ a bit much to have dinner with your in-laws every weekend. And you’re perfectly right, the two of you do need some more alone time.” Jokingly, she added, “Not to mention you probably don’t want to spend your free time socializing with your boss on weekends as well as during the week.”

Tighe refrained from mentioning that he hardly ever saw Edward at UP, and that when he did, it was usually because Kathryn’s father sought him out. 

“If you’d like, I’ll mention it to Kathryn,” her mother said. “Once a month should be quite enough.”

He smiled, glad to have found an ally.   
***

_One month later_

Tighe looked up in surprise as Kathryn entered the apartment. “Hey, I didn’t think you were getting out this weekend.” He put down the dish he’d just removed from the replicator, and went to embrace her.

“Technically, I’m not, but I’ve got a few free hours and decided I’d rather come home, even though I have to be back at the training base by 0600 tomorrow morning.” She attempted a smile as she returned his hug.

He picked up on her tension. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a run-in with Commander Gilroy,” Kathryn said as she pulled back from his arms. 

“Gilroy?” asked Tighe, trying to place the name.

“He teaches Combat Systems Training, and Tactical Strategy.”

“Not one of your favorite instructors, huh?”

“He seems to have singled me out for special treatment, from the very first day,” Kathryn said, her hands on her hips, her stance defensive. “Remember, he’s the one who ridiculed my switch from science to command track. But today he really crossed the line.”

“What happened?”

“He was going on about how physical training is essential for commanding officers, that the ship's XO is responsible for leading most away missions and ensuring the safety of the landing party. Sometimes, the captain is planetside, and depending on the stability of the local political environments, the situation may be highly variable.”

“He’s got a point there, Kathryn.”

“Yes, but Gilroy’s idea of ensuring that we _can_ handle ourselves in a physical combat situation was to make an example of one of the trainees.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Tighe said grimly. 

“Oh, he didn’t inflict any physical damage,” she said as she began to pace. “He just ridiculed me in front of the entire squad.”

Tighe opened his mouth to speak but it was clear Kathryn wasn’t finished yet.

“He called me up to the front of the group, told me to defend myself, and then proceeded to knock me flat on my ass. It was over in seconds.” She grimaced at the memory. “What gets me is that he kept going on and on about how many officers take physical combat readiness for granted, that they don’t realize the safety of their team may hinge on their preparedness.” She stopped pacing for a moment. “I told him that wasn’t a fair assessment of my abilities. And you know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said I was down and the demonstration was over. So I said, that depends on what you were trying to demonstrate. And do you know what he answered?” Without waiting for a reply, she said, “He said, ‘This was only an exercise, Lieutenant. It’s not as if this was a _real_ away mission and your _failure_ put lives at risk.’” She added, “To Gilroy, I’m just another track-shifter with delusions of grandeur about a life in command. It’s clear he doesn’t think I’ve got what it takes.”

“Well, the first thing you need to do is report this to the Corps Commander, to ensure that this kind of thing doesn’t happen again,” Tighe said, working himself up to a state of righteous indignation on her behalf. “Even as a trainee, you still deserve to be treated with basic respect. Then, meet with Gilroy and let him know in no uncertain terms—”

“Justin,” Kathryn interrupted. “I don’t want you to solve my problems for me. I’m quite capable of doing that on my own.” She exhaled sharply, as if she were irritated with _him_. “I just want you to listen to me and sympathize.”

He nodded slowly, as he tried to understand. “OK. If that’s what you want.”   
***

At the end of a particularly grueling week, Tighe keyed in the entrance code and stepped into his darkened apartment, his mind still on the crisis engulfing UP. 

The _Terra Nova_ , the prototype for the new fighter jets, Edward’s pet project, had spectacularly failed in its initial test flight over Tau Ceti Prime five days earlier. The jet had crashed, instantly killing its pilot. Preliminary tests had shown no indication of any problems, let alone something this catastrophic. 

Tighe had managed to see Edward for only a few minutes, as the Admiral was in major crisis containment mode, dealing with the loss of a multi-million credit fighter jet, as well as the death of one his officers. “I don’t understand how this could have happened,” Edward kept insisting. “There was nothing wrong with the altitude controls. They had been thoroughly tested. And the amount of turbulence the pilot encountered at the atmosphere reentry could not have accounted for the engine failure.”

“What about human error?”

Edward shook his head. “Daniels was one of our best test pilots, and was thoroughly familiar with every system.”

Tighe nodded sympathetically, even as his mind continued working to come up with a plausible explanation. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir…was there any evidence of sabotage?”

Edward looked at him as if he’d grown an additional head. “Sabotage? By whom? What could possibly be the motive?”

“Well, the new fighter jet was touted as the next new tool in the ongoing ‘skirmishes’ with the Cardassians,” Tighe said cautiously. “So it’s possible that one of their agents--”

Edward waved his words away. “No. The prototype was kept under lock and key with high security; it wasn’t even housed at UP.” He ran his hand through his hair wearily; Tighe started at the familiarity of the gesture. “This was an accident; it couldn’t have been anything else. There must have been a subtle design flaw we didn’t catch. We’ll conduct a thorough failure analysis, and we’ll figure out what it was.” Edward sighed. “Meanwhile, the project has been shelved until further notice.”

Days later, Edward’s words remained with Tighe during his trip back to Earth. He was disturbed by what had happened to the _Terra Nova_ , and even more disturbed at how quickly Edward had dismissed his concerns about sabotage. Not that he would have admitted it to his father-in-law, but the Cardassians weren’t the _only_ potential saboteurs that he was worried about. Well, there was only one way to disprove his suspicions. 

On his way home from the spaceport yesterday, he’d taken a detour by the Golden Gate Park. Making sure he wasn’t observed, he’d made a quick drop at the base of the statue commemorating the birth of the United Federation of Planets. The irony of the location was not lost on him.

In the present, he opened his mouth to order apartment lights on, and suddenly froze. There was someone in the room with him. 

He strained his eyes in the faint illumination filtering in from the window, but could see nothing. All he had to guide him was the sound of faint breathing. He silently moved forward.

A voice spoke in the darkness. "That's close enough, Tighe. Computer, lights."

Tighe blinked in the sudden onslaught of light. "Sloan,” he said, his voice heavy with distaste. “What the hell are you doing here?"

"That should be fairly obvious," Sloan chided him. "I'm here to speak with you."

"And that necessitated breaking into my apartment? What if I wasn't alone?" In a corner of his mind, Tighe was very grateful that Kathryn was in the midst of survival training and there was no chance of her coming home for another several days. He added, "Your flair for the dramatic nearly got you a broken neck."

Sloan smiled. "Better luck next time, my boy." He rose from the couch. "And as far as why I’m here, I believe _you_ initiated this contact.” 

Tighe exhaled deeply, willing his adrenaline levels to drop to normal. “I want some information, Sloan. About the _Terra Nova_ incident.”

Sloan shrugged. “The newscasts have covered practically nothing else over the past few days.”

“Why did the ship crash?”

“Come, come, Tighe, you’re the one who’s stationed at Utopia Planitia. You tell me.”

“The media is saying the new design must have contained flaws which hadn’t been adequately addressed before the flight.” Tighe thought back to Edward’s denials. “But I know for a fact that’s not true.”

“You can think what you want,” Sloan said. “But it doesn’t really matter. The official story is out. Anything else is just speculation.” 

“Is it speculation to believe that that this was a case of sabotage disguised as an accident?”

“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions, Tighe?”

“If someone wanted to shut down the new class of fighters, this would be the perfect excuse. Don’t you agree?” Tighe said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “And all it took was one act of sabotage, and the cost of one man’s life.” An image rose in his mind of Eddy Daniels, the test pilot. Tighe hadn’t known him well; truth be told, they had only met one time in a bar on Mars. Tighe’s attention had been drawn by the other man’s swagger, his boasts about being one of the elite test pilots for the new class of ships. Envious, he had struck up a brief conversation. And now Daniels was dead.

Sloan said, “Why would the Section want to shut this project down?”

“Humor me, Sloan. The reason might be political, to discredit someone at UP. Would the Section go to such elaborate lengths to sink the career of a starship designer? Or maybe the target is someone higher up, like, say the head of the department of Fabrication and Design?” 

“Worried about your father-in-law, Tighe? I don’t blame you if you are. After all, he’s the one who got you your current job. Where would you be if it weren’t for him?”

Tighe ignored Sloan’s jibe and continued, “Or would it be because the Cardassians had gotten wind of at least some of the design details of this new fighter jet? We wouldn’t want them to know the extent of Starfleet’s technical advancements, after all. So instead, just make them think the project was a colossal failure and is closed down, while in reality it continues underground.”

“You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this,” Sloan said neutrally. 

Tighe realized he wasn’t going to get anything else out of Sloan as far as this subject was concerned. “So if you weren’t going to tell me anything, why the hell are you here?”

Sloan smiled. “Maybe I wanted a chance to catch up with an old friend.”

“We were never friends, Sloan.”

“But we were colleagues. And the fact that you contacted us…could it be that you’ve changed your mind about Section 31 and are interested in coming back?”

“Fat chance.”

Sloan went on, “It’s been six months since you left us, Tighe, to work on installing advanced warp engines that _someone else_ designed, that _someone else_ tested. Are you bored yet?” He shook his head. “A pity the brass at UP aren’t taking advantage of your full capabilities, for example, test piloting some of the new prototypes. On the other hand, that type of posting might be dangerous. Look at poor Daniels.”

Tighe bristled. “Is that a threat?”

“No, just a reminder that when you’re ready, we’ll be waiting.” Abruptly, he turned to leave. With a sardonic grin, he added, "No, don't bother, I'll see myself out."


	4. Chapter 4

Janeway leaned against the wall in the apartment’s main living area and watched as Justin worked to repair their replicator. Upon their return from a long weekend in Paris earlier that day, she’d ordered a cup of coffee and had been dismayed at what emerged instead from the malfunctioning unit.

As she watched his hands deftly dealing with the recalcitrant machinery, she thought back to their vacation. They’d celebrated her successful completion of the command course; privately, Janeway had also been conscious of storing up some memories ahead of the long separation rapidly approaching as she prepared to ship out once more. 

Her next posting would be as a mid-level science officer on board the _Kyoto_ , a much larger and more prestigious ship than the _Artemis_. Even though she’d graduated – with high honors – from Command School, she would not be eligible for a command of her own for several more years. Instead, she would serve in other capacities until she reached the rank of Commander and received the XO spot aboard a vessel. And after that, if all went well, she would eventually get her own ship.

“The advantages of being married to an engineer,” Justin said as he handed her a fresh cup of steaming coffee. “Here you go.”

Janeway refrained from mentioning that she probably could have dealt with the replicator on her own, and gave him a smile. “Thanks.” She took a deep drink. “Ahh.”

He smiled at her blissful reaction. 

They’d both enjoyed their trip to Paris. As noted in the vacation brochures, it was the perfect romantic getaway. Of course, she had also insisted on dragging him out to the Louvre as well as various other landmarks in the City of Light, but he hadn’t complained _too_ much. Perhaps he, too, was conscious of their time running out before they needed to return to their respective assignments.

This time, the separation would be harder, as they both had a better idea of what they would be missing. 

Justin put away his tools and then picked up his gym bag. “I’m going to get in a workout.”

“Physical gym, or holo?” The recreation center of their building was equipped with three individual holosuites. At this time of day, there was a good chance of finding one open.

“The holosuite in the apartment complex. Why?” 

She was suddenly loath to let him out of her sight, wanting to spend as much time as possible with him before she left. “Mind if I join you?”

He shrugged. “As you wish.”

She had been inside his program a few times before, but now, as she entered the holosuite, she paid more attention to the details and was impressed by what she saw. She stood on the grounds of a hilltop monastery. In the distance, an old stucco structure reflected the sunlight, though the valley below was wreathed in shadow. She walked along the cobbled path to the main courtyard, passing a small pond on her left. On closer observation, she saw that it held a number of koi. 

She frowned.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“It’s lovely,” she said truthfully, knowing he had created it himself. “But I think you’ve got too many koi.”

“There are only five of them. How can that be too many?”

“Five makes it look too crowded,” she said decisively. “You should either make the pond bigger or else reduce the number of fish.”

He pulled off his T shirt and began his warm up stretches. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Does that mean no?”

“It means I’ll take it under advisement,” he repeated patiently. “Once you get your mind set on something, you never give up, do you?”

“That’s why you love me so much,” she said playfully.

Justin gave her a look. “Exactly.”

He began the sweeping motions of the _kata_. She joined in, watching him carefully to see what came next. Part of the routine seemed familiar, but it quickly became more complicated and some of his motions were too quick for her to parse.

“What was that last part?” she asked.

He repeated it again, more slowly. “Like this?” she said.

“No. Here.” He positioned himself behind her, and put one hand on the small of her back, the other on her upper right arm. “Easy, a steady movement, now pull your leg up.”

Clad in Starfleet-issue tank top and shorts, she was very conscious of the way his hands felt on her body. “And again…more smoothly. Good. Pivot, then lift the opposite leg and follow through. Do the sweep again, now from the other side.”

Twenty minutes later, Janeway could feel her muscles protesting and was glad when he called a break.

“Here,” he said as he handed her a bottle of water.

She took it gratefully. His chest and arms were covered with a sheen of sweat, but he didn’t seem at all winded.

“I know I’m not as familiar with all the martial forms as you are, obviously, but it seems like you have some non-Terran exercises as part of the routine.”

“You’re correct,” he replied, taking a swig from his own water bottle. “Some of the forms are Klingon.”

“Klingon?” Janeway repeated in surprise. Despite the Khitomer Accords, it was unusual to come across Klingons in Federation territory. “When did you have any contact with Klingons?”

He was silent for a moment. “It was a long time ago.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

Justin’s voice was level, his face expressionless, as he said, “I was captured by the Cardassians and held at one of their bases, deep inside their territory. I managed to escape when a band of Klingons raided the prison camp. They took me back with them to Federation space and handed me over to Starfleet.”

After their rescue from Urtea II, Admiral Paris had revealed Justin had been a prisoner of the Cardassians years earlier. She’d guessed it was as a result of a mission with the Rangers that had gone awry, but knew none of the details. This was the first time she had ever heard him speak about the experience. “How long were you held prisoner?”

“Four months. Afterward, I was a mess, physically and emotionally. One of the Klingons, Stovak, who’d befriended me, showed me the moves of the _kata_.” Justin’s eyes had a distant look as he remembered. “He said it was a good way of working through the pain and the rage of having been tortured and helpless.” 

His matter of fact tone sent shivers up her spine. All told, she and Admiral Paris had been captives for less than 72 hours; she still remembered the Admiral’s screams as the Cardassians broke him. A Starfleet admiral had been a much greater prize than a mere ensign, even a female one. Janeway had been very lucky that she had mostly been ignored those first days. Of course, if their rescue hadn’t come when it did, she could easily guess what would have been her fate.

“Later, I made this program based on Stovak’s description of the monastery on Boreth, said to be the place where Kahless would one day return.” Justin gestured in the direction of the small building in the distance. “I also threw in some elements from Earth legends, in particular, from the story of Lu-Tze, who was said to be the master of time and could move back and forth between the ages.” He forced a smile. “I thought it was appropriate; I wanted to turn the clock back, to help me to recover, go back to the man I was before.”

She was about to ask him to explain further, but something in his expression stopped her. Instead, she took his hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Unfortunately, we can't go back, we can only keep going forward,” she said softly. “Don’t let the past be the sole determinant of the future.” 

He looked down at their clasped hands, and slowly nodded.   
***

The night before Janeway was set to ship out, they shared a quiet dinner in their apartment. At the end of the meal, she produced a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. 

Justin raised an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion? I didn’t miss your birthday, did I?”

Her lips quirked up. “No, you didn’t.” She concentrated on pouring the bubbly liquid and handed him one of the glasses. “Our first anniversary is coming up in another two months. I won’t be back on Earth then, so I propose we celebrate early.”

He smiled. “In the moment, rather than put things off.”

“Exactly.”

He lifted his glass to her. “To my beautiful and amazing wife, who is going to be one hell of a captain one day.”

They clinked glasses, and Janeway fought back the sudden rush of tears. Even though his initial reaction to her decision to switch career tracks had left much to be desired, he’d certainly come around since then.

Justin pushed back his chair and held out his hand to her. She took it willingly and followed him into the bedroom.

After they made love and were waiting for sleep, they held each other as though they would never let go.  
***

A few months later, Tighe stood next to one of the huge floor to ceiling clearsteel viewports at the apex of Mars Station, on the side that permanently faced away from the planet. This was one of his favorite spots in all of UP, and where he came when he had a problem he needed to work out. The sight of the starry expanse against the deep blackness was at once both calming and invigorating.

With the impending launch of the _Enterprise-D_ , the _Galaxy_ project was winding down. Next on the docket was the _Intrepid_ series, a new class of long-range exploratory vessels which would utilize bio-neural circuitry in place of isotronic components. Tighe had been intrigued when Edward had first mentioned the feature, which was designed to speed up computer response time. However, when he’d met with Captain Laurel, the chief project designer, to bring up his concerns about the stability of the neural gel packs, they were mostly ignored.

“I never get tired of that view,” Leah Brahms said as she approached.

Tighe tipped his head to acknowledge his team leader. “I would have thought you’d prefer the view of the shipyards, with the ships in various stages of construction,” he said.

Brahms smiled as she gazed out the viewport. “The shipyards represent my work. The stars are a reminder of why I’m here, and give me something to reach for.” 

He studied her profile for a moment before saying, “I always wondered why you didn’t opt for a career in Starfleet.”

“I can accomplish more in my chosen path,” Brahms replied immediately, with the air of one who had indeed given the matter some consideration. “Academia has its share of bureaucracy and politics, too, but there’s still more freedom to pursue your own interests than there is within the confines of Starfleet.”

They admired the starscape in silence for a few more moments, and then she turned to face him. “Tighe, I wanted to tell you I’m leaving UP for a position as professor of Theoretical Physics at the Daystrom Institute.”

He wasn’t really surprised she was moving on, now that the _Galaxy_ project was ending. “That’s a very prestigious institution.”

“I completed my doctoral studies there, and am really looking forward to going back and taking on some new challenges. As a plus, they’re here on Mars so I won’t have to relocate, which is good for my husband and children.” 

“I’m happy for you,” Tighe said sincerely. “I know you’ll do an excellent job. Your students are very lucky.” 

“Thank you. I’ve always enjoyed teaching, and I’m very excited about the research I’m going to do. “

“All of us here will miss you. Drafting Room 5 won’t be the same without you,” he said with a smile.

Brahms laughed, then quickly became serious once more. “You should know, I thought about recommending you to take over as team leader in my stead.” 

He covered his surprise. “Quintoros would never go for it.” 

Brahms shook her head. “The reason I didn’t do it is because you don’t really belong here, Tighe. You belong among the stars.” She forestalled his interruption. “You’re spinning your wheels, generating a lot of power but going nowhere. You’re a brilliant engineer and could be doing so much more than what you’re working on now.” She added, “I can tell you’re restless, and have been for a while.” 

“Maybe I am,” he said, as he turned to face the viewport once more. 

Brahms gently laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t be afraid to make a change.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Tighe said immediately.

“No,” Brahms said. “You’re not the type to scare easily.” She paused. “But sometimes it takes an extra push before you realize what you need to do.”  
***

Tighe caught the signal flash of the communication console as soon as he walked into his quarters, and smiled when Kathryn’s image appeared on the screen. “Hey, I didn’t expect to talk to you till the end of the week. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I had a few moments and decided to call. Did you just get off-shift?”

He nodded, and then noticed the weariness in her face, especially around her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Well, we had a little ‘excitement’ over the last few days,” she said, her tone deliberately casual.

He caught the undertone right away. “What happened?”

“Our ship was involved in a skirmish with the Cardassians at a Starfleet outpost.” He noticed she left out any identifying information; not surprising as they were speaking over an open comm line. “Our mission was to bring supplies and help repair some of their equipment. But a Cardassian raider attacked, leading to a battle in space, plus one on the planet below.” 

“You were on the planet, weren’t you?” he said with sudden realization. 

She nodded. 

He kept his voice level. “What happened?”

“We were taking some heavy fire, and our commander decided to lead a sortie to try to take out their artillery.” She attempted a smile. “It was successful, but we ended up in a firefight and took some losses.” 

Tighe exhaled sharply. “Were you wounded?” 

“No,” she quickly reassured him. “Just a few scrapes and bruises. And, uh, I may have done something to my shoulder trying to clear some of the debris from the tunnels, but I’m OK. Really.”

He closed his eyes for a moment while the magnitude of what she’d told him sank in. “Thank God.”

“I wanted to let you know before you heard about it from other channels.” 

“I appreciate that.” He swallowed. “Did you save the outpost?” 

“Yes,” she said. “Reinforcements arrived in time.” Almost shyly, she added, “As a result of my actions on the planet, I’ve been promoted to full lieutenant.” 

“That’s great!” Tighe said. She clearly hadn’t given him the whole story of what really happened, or just _what_ she had done to earn this promotion, but he could let that pass. “I’m so proud of you, Kathryn. That’s an amazing accomplishment, and in such a short time.” 

She colored at his praise but looked pleased. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to let you know what happened. We’ll talk more in another few days.” She held out her hand, as if she could reach out through the screen and touch him. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” he said.

After they broke the connection, he thought back on their conversation. Despite his reservations at her career shift, he couldn’t deny that she would be a hell of a commander one day. In fact, she was clearly well on her way.

The corners of his mouth turned down as he couldn’t help but contrast Kathryn’s situation with his own. She was going places. And he was not.  
***

In the UP Mess Hall, Tighe got a sandwich and a bowl of soup. He made his way through the lunchtime crowd to a table in the corner where two of his co-workers, Walter Pierce and William Hodges, were seated.

“Hey,” Pierce said, as Tighe sat down. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” Tighe asked as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“About Captain Jenkins of the _Valiant_ ,” Hodges said. “He and his security officer were apparently on an undercover mission, when something went very wrong.”

Tighe tried to place the name. “Jenkins? Was he part of covert ops?”

Pierce shook his head. “Just a regular captain, never involved in anything like this before. And not the type you’d expect to be, either.”

“Then what was he doing on an undercover mission?” Tighe demanded.

Hodges shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Rumor has it they were trying to infiltrate the Orion Syndicate. Their cover was blown, and now they’re dead.”

“Unbelievable,” Tighe muttered under his breath. 

“Not so unbelievable, when you consider how dangerous an assignment like that is,” Pierce pointed out.

“No, what I meant is that it’s unbelievable that Starfleet would have two ordinary officers, with no specialized training, attempt a mission like that,” Tighe said.

“We don’t know any of the details,” Hodges said reasonably. “They must have had _some_ training. They wouldn’t have gone in completely unprepared.”

Tighe bit back his reply about how inadequate that was, and forced himself to relax. Inwardly, he was fuming about amateurs attempting things that should only be left to the pros. Even if they’d _had_ a week or two of training, it wouldn’t be enough. Hell, it would probably be worse because they’d then assume they were prepared for whatever they’d be facing. What the _hell_ was Starfleet thinking? 

As Hodges and Pierce continued to speculate, he ignored their conversation and concentrated on finishing his meal.

That evening, he looked up the records of the two officers from the _Valiant_ , Captain Horace Jenkins and Commander Ali Majadle, the chief of security, and confirmed that neither of them was remotely qualified for such a dangerous mission. He found himself growing angry all over again. Something like this should _not_ have happened. Which Starfleet bigwig thought sending neophytes on an undercover operation was a good idea? It wasn’t as if the trained personnel didn’t exist – if you knew where to look.

As he stood there fuming, a thought slowly formed in his brain. He resisted it at first, but then, feeling the inevitability of fate, he came to a decision.  
***

In the back room of a disreputable bar on Luna colony, Tighe stood waiting. The dimly lit room was mostly empty except for some crates piled in the corner, and a rickety chair that didn’t look like it could bear his weight. 

The minutes dragged by. The thought crossed his mind that the other party wasn’t going to show, but he dismissed it almost immediately. They would be there; he just needed to wait.

Finally, the door at the opposite end of the room opened, and a slim figure, clad all in black leather, slipped in and regarded him silently.

Tighe spoke first. “I see you got my message.”

“Yes. An intriguing offer. The question is, is it sincere?”

“Yes, it’s sincere.” He paused. “But I have some stipulations.” 

“And they are?”

He held up one finger as he began to list them. “One, no targeted assassinations or underworld operations.” He held up a second finger. “Two, I reserve the right to turn down any assignments I don’t feel are _truly_ in the best interests of the Federation.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m just getting started,” he said. “Next: I won’t be your eyes and ears at Utopia Planitia.”

“In other words, you won’t spy on your father-in-law.”

“No, I won’t,” he said with conviction.

“Fortunately, we have no need of you in _that_ capacity.” 

He let that pass, though it only served to confirm his earlier suspicions about the _Terra Nova_ incident. “To continue, I want room for advancement. I won’t be stuck in some backwater assignment for months at a time.”

“You think we would waste a talent like yours?” A beat. “In return, we will expect nothing less than a full commitment from you.”

He went on. “You respect my personal space and you don’t interfere with my private life in any way.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“And finally, give me the opportunity to work to my skills, solve interesting puzzles for you, perform amazing feats of engineering. It’s in your best interests; this will give you a monopoly on new tech that you don’t have to steal, excuse me, ‘appropriate’ from others.” He paused. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” Chloe stepped into the light, and smiled. “Welcome back to Section 31, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character Lu-Tze was created by Terry Pratchett in his book “Thief of Time.”


	5. Chapter 5

Janeway left the transporter station and strode down the main corridor of Starbase Four. After a few minutes, the corridor widened out into a large commercial center, lined with shops. As Justin had mentioned, she had no trouble locating the station’s most prominent ‘watering hole’, and went inside. 

When they’d discussed her upcoming leave earlier, Justin had surprised her by asking her to meet him on the starbase for some R&R. She’d been planning on coming home to Earth like she’d done for all her other leaves over the past year and a half. Though she wouldn’t deny that it _was_ more convenient to travel to the starbase, she was a bit disappointed that she wouldn’t be seeing her parents this time around. 

As soon as she entered the bar, she saw Justin at a distance and her heart skipped a beat. After so long apart, she was struck again by his height, his well-muscled body and handsome features, and his confident bearing. He saw her at almost the same moment and moved rapidly in her direction. They embraced and shared a passionate kiss. 

“Hello, stranger,” Justin said at last, his arms still wrapped around her.

“What’s with this ‘stranger’ business? Have you forgotten me so soon?” she chided him teasingly as she reached up and smoothed back the lock of hair that always drooped down over his forehead. “But you’re right, five months _is_ a long time to be apart.”

“Here’s hoping the next separation is a lot shorter.” He gave her an additional squeeze before letting go. “When did you get in?”

“The _Kyoto_ just docked 40 minutes ago.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” she said.

He grinned. “I certainly hope so. But don’t forget to save some room for ‘dessert.’” She colored slightly at his double entendre. He went on, “Do you want to eat here at the bar? As I recall, the food’s not bad, particularly the buffalo wings. Or, if you prefer, we could try out the new Rigellian restaurant across the way. Can’t vouch for the food, but it does look a lot classier.”

“Let’s go to the restaurant.” Janeway leaned down and picked up her bag. “After months of eating out of a replicator, I am definitely in the mood for some fine dining. By the way, did you get us a room?”

He took the bag from her and hoisted it on his shoulder. “It’s all taken care of,” he assured her.

They were seated a short time later and Janeway picked up her menu. Her eyebrows rose as she perused the offerings.

“What’s wrong?” Justin asked, watching her reaction.

“Did you say this was supposed to be Rigellian?”

“Yeah.”

“This menu is all over the place. Take the appetizer, _me’rav harif_. It’s actually Tandarian, which is in the same general sector, but is not part of the Rigellian system itself. Or this main, _fetu marsham_ , which is a popular Benzite dish. Historically, the Benzites have always been close trading partners with the Rigellians, but they don’t share the same cuisine.”

He laid down his own menu, clearly surprised at her reaction. “Does that mean you want to go elsewhere? I heard there’s supposed to be a Klingon place somewhere on the station as well.”

Janeway shuddered. “No, thank you, I prefer my food to be dead before I consume it.”

“But _gagh_ is supposed to be best when it’s still wriggling.”

“Exactly.” Janeway added. “I’m fine with staying here, really.”

“Even with inauthentic cuisine?” he teased.

She shrugged. “Well, it _is_ a starbase after all.”

“Not much of a tourist destination, other than quick shore leaves for Starfleet officers,” he agreed. “So, are you ready to order?”

Over the meal, Janeway said, “Not that I’m complaining, but what made you decide to come all the way out here, instead of just waiting for me at home in San Francisco?”

He laid his fork down and met her questioning gaze. “Starbase Four is on my way to my new posting.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

“I requested an official transfer from UP to a starship.”

“You requested a transfer,” she repeated incredulously. “Why?”

“I’ve been at UP for more than two years,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, “and it’s time I moved on. More than time, if you want to know the truth. Lately, I’ve been feeling as if--”

Janeway reached for her water glass and knocked it over in her haste. Ignoring the rapidly growing rivulet of water spreading across the tablecloth, she said with sudden anger, “And so you just decided to spring this on me, without _any_ prior warning? Just present this as a done deal?”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “You mean, like the way you announced you were switching to command track?”

“That’s not the same thing at all, and you know it,” Janeway snapped. She knew she was reacting badly but couldn’t help herself. “You can’t deny this _is_ a rather abrupt decision. It just makes no sense, that you’d suddenly disrupt both our lives like this.” She cast around for another argument to prove her point. “You had a great assignment at UP, one you seemed to like and were doing so well in. I can’t believe you would even think of leaving, not to mention letting my father down like this.” 

“Your _father_ took it very well,” Justin retorted. “He said he understood my reasons and that I need to do what’s best for me.” He gave her an exasperated look. “For God’s sake, Kathryn, you’re acting like I was his right hand man when the reality was I hardly ever saw, let alone worked with him at UP. Or do you mean that I owe it to him to stay, considering he got me the job in the first place?”

Realizing that they were on the verge of making a scene in a very public place, Janeway lowered her voice. “I’m just trying to understand. You’ve never given any indication that you were unhappy.” 

“It wasn’t that I was unhappy, but I wasn’t exactly happy, either.” Justin took a deep breath. “I felt like I was stagnating, that I wasn’t growing or learning or doing anything challenging anymore. Day in, day out, it was the same old routine.” He leaned forward and she was surprised by the intensity of his expression. “I also miss the stars, being out in space. I’ve spent the last two years either on Mars or Earth. I haven’t been planet bound for so long since I first enlisted in Starfleet.”

“What about future leaves?” she said suddenly. “We only see each other a few times a year as it is. It’ll be a lot harder to coordinate our schedules with both of us serving on starships.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do our best to synch our leaves,” he replied dismissively. “The way other Starfleet couples do.”

The waiter came by then and, catching sight of the water spill, immediately began mopping it up and clearing away the dirty dishes. Janeway was glad for the interruption, welcomed the chance to collect her thoughts. After the waiter left, she said, “So, what _is_ your next posting?”

“I’ll be the number two in the engineering department on the _Vico_ ,” he said.

“The _Vico_ …what class of ship is that?” she asked, trying to remember.

“ _Oberth_ class.”

Janeway looked at him in surprise. _Oberth_ -class vessels were relatively small, with a maximum crew complement of eighty, though they could run with as few as five hands on board. Typically, this class of vessel functioned as scout or transport/supply ships. _Was that the best you could do?_ she wondered, but didn’t say it out loud for fear of insulting him. 

Their waiter returned. “Will there be anything else? Do you want to order dessert?”

“No, I think we’re done here,” Justin said, tossing his napkin down with a quick snap of his wrist, and Janeway agreed.

They headed to their assigned quarters in silence. Once inside, Janeway gave the room a cursory glance; the bland decor was typical of the accommodations usually found in Starfleet installations. Her own quarters on the _Kyoto_ were about the same size, but the furnishings there were of much better quality. She went over to the viewport and looked out unseeingly at the stars, still trying to process the bombshell Justin had delivered.

As she stood there, he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. She could feel his erection pressing against her back. He kissed the back of her neck and reached over to cup her breasts.

When she remained cool and unresponsive, he said, “Don’t tell me you’re still mad.” 

“I’m not mad.”

“Well, you’re doing a hell of a good imitation of it.” He turned her around to face him but let go of her arms and took a step back.

“It’s just you never said anything to me about this before,” Janeway said, frustrated at his seeming inability to share what he was thinking and feeling. “I’m not a mind reader, Justin. It would have been nice to have _some_ inkling that you were unhappy and planning on making such a major change.”

He took a deep breath. “Kathryn, I know you’re upset about my transfer, but this _isn’t_ about you. It’s about _my_ career and the direction I want to go. Why are you taking this so personally?”

Why, indeed. She cast about for a way to explain her reaction, but couldn’t come up with the right words. 

He was still watching her, a look of concern in his eyes.

She attempted to swallow her anger, suddenly remembering her mother saying that the secret to a happy marriage was to never go to bed angry. She remembered, too, that they only had a couple of days before she and Justin would leave for their respective ships, and it would be a waste to spend that time fighting over what was, after all, a _fait acompli_.

“You’re right, I overreacted,” she said and forced a smile.

His relief obvious, Justin leaned over and kissed her again. She tried to respond. He very quickly made her forget their argument, made her forget everything except his hands and lips and the way he made her feel. He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. 

Lying in bed afterward, watching him as he slept, she was calmer, and able to think more objectively. She remembered snatches of past conversations when she’d asked him what he was working on. He’d always quickly switched the subject back to her and what she was doing. She thought about what his day to day job must have been like, and realized then what he had been trying to tell her: his ambitions were being stifled. She tried to imagine how she would feel in his position, and suddenly wondered if he was jealous that she was the one who got to go off on the never-ending adventure of serving on board a starship, while he’d been forced to stay behind. 

She also realized she’d reacted so strongly to his decision partly because she was disappointed on her own behalf. Despite their frequent separations, it _had_ been easier knowing he was on Earth waiting for her. Now both of them being in space would present a new set of challenges for them as a couple. 

She sincerely hoped they were up for it.  
***

Ten days later, after her bridge shift ended, Janeway made her way to her cabin. Flinging her jacket over the back of a chair, she got herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her desk console. A small holo of Justin stood next to the screen. He was standing on the banks of the Seine, his hair blowing in the breeze. She smiled, remembering their trip to Paris, which seemed like so long ago.

“Computer. Contact the Janeway home in Indiana.” 

After a short delay, the image of Admiral Edward Janeway appeared on the screen.

“Kathryn! What a pleasant surprise,” he said, his delight at seeing her evident.

“Hi, Dad,” she answered with a smile of her own. “How are you?”

“Fine, just fine,” he replied. “What’s new?”

“Oh, not too much,” Kathryn replied. “I realized it’s been a while since we spoke.”

Edward nodded. “Unfortunately, your mother’s not here. She’s attending the annual mathematics symposium on Alphacent.”

“Oh, really? I’m sorry to have missed her,” Kathryn said. In truth, she’d known full well that her mother would be absent and had timed her call accordingly. “I guess I’ll just have to make do with you,” she said teasingly.

“I’ll do my best,” Edward said with a grin.

“How’s work going?” she asked.

“There’s a lot of excitement at UP at present, with the construction phase of the _Enterprise-D_ completed. Of course, the launch won’t be for at least another year because of the necessary testing, but it still feels good to have passed this milestone.”

“ _Enterprise-D_?” Kathryn said, putting a faint emphasis on the last syllable. “I know there have been other ships with that name, but the same is true of the _Hood_ , or the _Lexington_ , to list just two. Why should the _Enterprise_ name bear an additional letter in its designation?”

“Ah, but the _Enterprise_ is the probably the most famous name of them all,” Edward said, his eyes lighting up as he embarked on one of his favorite subjects. “It’s a nod to her storied history, an acknowledgement of her esteemed forebears and commanding officers. Not counting the early NX series which was only capable of warp 5, the original _Enterprise_ \--”

“—was captained by James T. Kirk,” Kathryn said, nodding. “As was the _Enterprise-A_. The _‘B’_ , however--”

“—was commanded by Harriman, but don’t forget Kirk lost his life saving that vessel on her maiden voyage. And the _‘C’_ was Garret’s ship, and her destruction probably helped shore up relations between the Klingon Empire and the Federation,” Edward continued. “As I said, lots of history in that name.”

“So I suppose you’re already busy with your next big project,” she said.

“Projects, plural, and all of them vying for my immediate attention. For example, the _Intrepid_ series is still on the drawing board, but there are several others further along the pipeline.”

“I’m sure.” Keeping her tone casual, Kathryn went on, “I can’t tell you how surprised I was when Justin mentioned he was leaving UP.” She paused. “I’m sorry he let you down like this.” 

Edward studied her for a moment. “When he came by my office to tell me in person, I told him I fully support his decision to go back to field duty. He’s a brilliant engineer, and he did fine work for us. But Justin needs to do what’s right for him.” He added gently, “And if I _did_ have an issue with his decision, that would be between him and me. There’s no need for _you_ to apologize for anything, Kathryn.”

She had the grace to look embarrassed.   
***

_Eighteen months later_

After the successful completion of yet another mission, Tighe entered a small bar on Starbase 86, prior to catching a transport back to his ship. As he was off duty, he was not in uniform but wore a pair of dark pants and a weathered leather jacket. A few days’ worth of stubble covered his jawline. He stepped up to the bar and ordered a drink. 

“Bourbon, not synthehol.”

The bartender nodded and reached far back on a shelf for a dusty square bottle which he then opened and poured. As far as Starfleet installations were concerned, Starbase 86 was off the beaten path, closer to the Beta Quadrant than to Earth, and somewhat rundown, having seen better days. It was well known that a post there was not one of the more choice assignments. 

The bar itself was a good match for its location. The interior was dark, with mismatched tables and chairs, and there were not a lot of people there at present. Tighe took the glass to a rickety table in the corner, and sat down, as always keeping his back to the wall and never to the doorway. He had a number of hours to kill, so he sat there nursing his drink, thinking about Kathryn. It had been a month since he’d last seen her. 

From their calls, as well as what he heard from other sources, Kathryn was clearly one of Starfleet’s rising stars. She’d received a commendation for excellence in research for her work on quantum singularities and had recently been appointed the chief science officer on board the _Kyoto_ , with yet another promotion.

Since he’d left UP, they’d tried to balance their shore leaves to spend time together, sometimes more successfully than others. As she’d predicted, it was tough. They _had_ managed to share some memorable vacations, but it always seemed like they never had enough time together. 

“What’s married life like?” he’d been asked recently by a fellow crewmember who was thinking of proposing to his longtime girlfriend. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Tighe said automatically, then hastily clarified, “we spend so much time apart it’s hard to say. But when we _are_ together, it’s great, of course.” 

“Got any regrets?” 

“No,” Tighe said immediately. “I don’t.” And he’d meant it.

Section 31 placed a large demand on his time, a fact which he kept secret from his wife. During his last half year at UP, he’d done some research projects at the behest of the Section – it didn’t raise any eyebrows as it was an established practice for more senior engineers to pursue independent research interests on the side, provided that someone in the management hierarchy was at least vaguely aware of the project outline. Officially, Tighe had been investigating phase variances that occurred when certain conditions in subspace were met and the ensuing effect on the warp engines; conveniently, it dovetailed nicely with research on cloaking technology. As one of the provisions of the Treaty of Algeron, signed fifty years earlier between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire, Starfleet was prohibited from developing cloaking technology of its own. Section 31, however, was under no such constraints. 

Tighe liked the research; it was interesting, it kept him busy, and at the beginning it was almost enough to balance his rising frustrations with his regular work at UP. But it was by definition limited in scope, and so, tired of theory, he finally took Brahms’ advice and requested a transfer.

The _Vico_ , which was listed as a small transport vessel whose patrol route skirted the border of Cardassian space, was in reality under the auspices of Section 31. Contrary to his agreement with Chloe, he found he still was assigned covert missions on a regular basis, but they invariably were ones that utilized his engineering skills and training, so he hadn’t raised much of a fuss. And he continued to work on the cloaking technology in his “spare” time.

After a year aboard the _Vico_ , he transferred to another ship with a different patrol assignment, now near the Romulan Neutral Zone. 

Kathryn had raised her brows in surprise when he’d casually mentioned it during one of their shared leaves. “I didn’t think you’d be switching assignments again so soon,” she said, but didn’t hide her relief that he was transferring to a larger, more prominent class of vessel. 

He was very well aware she had been disappointed at his earlier posting, didn’t feel the _Vico_ was large or important enough to be worth his while. He sighed. It seemed that lately whenever he and Kathryn managed to have some rare time together, they spent it either arguing or making love. Kathryn had remarked upon this dynamic, wondering when they would get to be like a normal couple, and leave all their issues behind.

They weren’t due to see each other again for another two months, and he missed her – her perceptiveness, her penchant for cutting right to the crux of a matter, the capable way she met challenges and that was leading her to excel in her chosen path. And of course, the look in her eyes during intimate moments, the way she held nothing back and wasn’t afraid to let her love for him show.

Back in the present, he was aware that a woman at a table nearby had been studying him surreptitiously for the last several minutes. So he wasn’t really surprised that when he went to the bar to refresh his drink, the bartender said, “The lady in the corner would like to invite you to join her.”

Turning, he gave the lady in question a closer look. The woman looked to be in her mid-20’s. Long blonde hair, good figure showed off to full effect by her low-cut blouse, thigh high boots that barely reached the edge of her short skirt. Aware of his gaze, she gave him a seductive smile. 

For a split second, he was tempted, but gave himself a mental shake. “Sorry, not interested.” 

He settled his bar tab and left.


	6. Chapter 6

_One year later_

Lieutenant Commander Janeway leaned back in her chair and regarded the young female ensign standing stiffly at attention before her. “Take a seat, Ensign,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Janeway inwardly winced at the form of address but didn’t comment. “Ensign Taylor, you joined the science staff of the _Kyoto_ eight months ago. You seemed to settle in very quickly and were doing well, but over the past six weeks I’ve noticed a drop in your performance rating.” She paused. “Is there anything going on that I should know about?” 

Taylor bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Commander. I really tried not to let it affect my work, but…” 

“What is ‘it’?”

“My boyfriend recently accepted a transfer to another ship, as a step toward advancement.”

“I see.”

“This is the first time we’ve been separated since we became a couple, and well, both of us are having a hard time being apart,” Taylor confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Ensign, I must remind you that as a member of Starfleet, your duty comes first,” Janeway said, firmly but not unkindly. “You must learn to compartmentalize between the professional and the personal, and concentrate on your work when you’re on duty. You owe it to your commanders, your crewmates, and most of all yourself to make sure you give your job all.”

“Yes, Commander,” Taylor replied dutifully. “I know what’s expected of me, and I will do my very best to fulfill those expectations—” 

“But it _is_ hard,” Janeway said, her tone softening a bit now that she’d delivered her admonishment . “Believe me, I understand what you’re going through.” Impulsively, she added, “I’m married myself, and I know first-hand just how tough it is to carry on a long distance relationship.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Taylor said, hesitantly, “How long have you been married?”

“Four years,” Janeway said, and answered the ensign’s unasked question. “My husband is also in Starfleet.”

“How often do you see each other?”

“During the first couple of years, we managed to be together a lot more often. Now it’s only a few times a year, but we make do with what we have.” She paused. “May I offer you some advice, Ensign?” At Taylor’s nod, Janeway continued. “Communication is the key. Make sure you talk as much as possible, discuss everything. Don’t assume he can read your mind—if there’s something you want him to know, _tell_ him.” 

Taylor nodded again, this time more emphatically. “Yes.”

“And do your best to coordinate your leaves. When you’re together, make every moment count.”

Janeway rose from her seat and laid a sympathetic hand on the ensign’s arm. “It _will_ be all right, Ensign. If you both want it badly enough, and are willing to make the necessary sacrifices, you’ll make it work. It _is_ hard, but it’s definitely worth it.”

After the ensign left, Janeway considered her own relationship. Despite her encouraging words, she acknowledged that when she and Justin _were_ together, they seemed to have trouble communicating. For example, other than planning the next leave, talk about the future didn’t come up. They had never discussed where they each saw themselves in five, ten years and beyond, and what this meant in terms of having a family. She suddenly realized she didn’t even know _if_ Justin wanted to have children, let alone how they would manage to balance parenthood and their Starfleet careers. True, the new _Galaxy_ -class ships were supposed to be able to accommodate not only crew but also their families, but Janeway wasn’t so sure personally that a starship was a place to raise a child.

Her comm unit beeped. “Janeway here,” she replied as she switched the call to visual.

“Hello, Kathryn,” Justin said.

“Justin! What a pleasant surprise,” she said with a smile. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“Only good thoughts, I hope,” he said. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she said. He was in full uniform. She surmised he was either about to go on duty or had just completed a shift. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until Friday to finalize our plans for next week--”

“That’s what I’m calling about,” Justin said, cutting her off. “Kathryn, I’m sorry. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to take leave after all.”

“But we’ve been planning this ski vacation on Andor for months,” Janeway said in dismay. “Who knows when the honeymoon suite in the chalet will be available again, not to mention I managed to snag a hard to get reservation at the only _Michelin star_ rated restaurant not on Earth.” 

“I know,” he said, his voice softening a bit. “But something came up and I can’t get away right now,” he said. “I’m sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to spending time together, and trust me, this wasn’t my choice.”

“What happened?” she asked, expecting a crisis of some sorts. She tried to recall if there’d been any reports of recent tension along the Neutral Zone where he was stationed, but nothing came to mind.   
“Have all leaves in your sector been rescinded?”

Justin hesitated almost imperceptibly. “No, nothing like that.” He cleared his throat. “I’m participating in an officer exchange program, with the Klingons.”

“I didn’t know anything like that was planned,” she said in surprise.

“This will be the first one, and so they don’t want to publicize anything until they’re sure it will work out. There _are_ a lot of cultural issues, after all.” 

“I see.” Janeway tried and failed to conceal her disappointment. Granted the program he described sounded important, but did it have to be at this exact time? And surely he’d known it was a possibility, so why hadn’t he said anything earlier? “When did you find out?”

“A few hours ago. I called you as soon as I could.” He added, “I know you’re disappointed.”

 _Of course I am._ She exhaled sharply. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, not to mention that it took a lot of leg work and compromise to settle on these dates in the first place. We’ve already rescheduled this trip once before.” 

“I’m sorry, Kathryn, I really am,” he said contritely. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

She’d heard that line from him before. She felt a sudden rush of anger and frustration, but attempted to get a handle on her emotions. “When do you leave?” she asked. 

“My shuttle leaves in a few minutes,” he said. “Got to go. I’ll call you later and let you know when we can reschedule.”

She started to say goodbye, but he had already broken the connection.

Janeway sat very still, replaying the conversation in her mind. They had spent _weeks_ planning this vacation together. And now it wasn’t going to happen. She rose from her seat and began pacing, her anger growing with each step, overriding her earlier disappointment. The last time she and Justin had physically been together in the same room had been three months ago, and then they’d only managed to spend a couple of days together. And the time before that, their carefully laid plans were disrupted at the last moment, again due to his inability to get away. This ten day ski trip would have been their first ‘long’ vacation in nearly a year. Now they needed to reschedule. _Again._ And there was no guarantee the next time would be any different.

She came to an abrupt decision. She would take leave, alone, on their original date. Just because he couldn’t get away didn’t mean she had to remain onboard her ship. She’d certainly earned some time off, and she was determined to take it.  
***

Janeway ran along the path, easily negotiating the curves. Running the flat trails in Indiana was so very different than navigating the hills in San Francisco. Her feet pounded in a comforting rhythm; it felt so good to get out all her frustrations in physical exertion. After completing her planned 10k, she wasn’t really winded, and so decided to press further.

“Kathryn!”

She turned in surprise at hearing her name, and nearly lost her footing, but was able to stop without much difficulty, though she was still breathing heavily. She squinted through the sunlight and smiled broadly when she saw who it was. “Mark! What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my parents,” he said with an answering smile of his own. “How about you?”

“The same,” she replied, pushing her straggling hair back from her face. “How long are you here for?”

“Just a few days.” He squeezed her hands and smiled again. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since your wedding.”

“I think you’re right,” Janeway said, trying to remember another occasion when she might have seen or talked to Mark, but came up blank. “How have you been?”

“Good, good. How are your parents?”

“They’re fine.”

“How are yours?”

“Also fine.”

Mark scrutinized her appearance. “You look good, Kath.”

She shook her head in amusement, very aware of how she must look, sweaty and red-faced. “Oh, please, I--”

“I don’t mean at the exact moment,” he said teasingly, but quickly grew serious. “It looks like Starfleet—and married life—agree with you.”

Her smile felt a bit forced. “Can’t complain.” She changed the subject. “So what are you doing these days? The last I heard, you were working on a post-doc in philosophy.”

“Good memory,” he said. “After I finished my thesis, I taught at Berkley for a few years. Then, six months ago, I joined the Questor Group.”

She gave a low whistle of appreciation. “The Questor Group? Seriously? They’re the most highly regarded philosophical symposium in the Alpha Quadrant!”

Mark colored at her praise but looked pleased all the same. “The work we’re doing is fascinating, and I’m really enjoying myself.”

“I’ll bet,” Janeway said with a fond smile, remembering his propensity to dissect and expound at length on almost every topic under the sun during their childhood. “I know the Questors incorporate the most innovative aspects of science and technology into their formulations, and practically the entire Federation eagerly looks forward to their quarterly publications.”

“Not the _entire_ Federation,” he said quickly.

“Close enough,” she said. “At least, _I_ always look forward to it though I don’t always have the time to read as closely as I’d like.” Spotting a nearby bench, she sat down and waited for him to do the same. “Congratulations, Mark, that’s really quite impressive.”

“Thanks,” he said. He pulled out a water bottle. “Would you like a drink?”

She accepted gratefully. “I guess your job means you’re living in South America?”

“Yep, we’re based in Curitiba at present, though there’s been some discussion of possibly moving to San Francisco in another few years.”

“So I guess you don’t get out to Indiana very often.”

“I come back for a long weekend every six weeks or so, especially now as my folks are getting older.” Mark paused. “How about you? How often do you get back to Earth?”

“Not as often as I’d like,” she answered, as she handed him back his now half-empty bottle. “Officially, I am entitled to leave every 2.5 months, or roughly four or five times a year. Each leave is approximately ten days, but you also have to figure in the travel time to and from your ship, so it’s not always practical to come all the way back to Earth.”

He nodded. “How’s your ship? As you move up in rank, do you still get to do hands-on exploration, or do you spend a lot of time on management?”

“It’s great,” she said. “As the chief science officer, I do have a number of administrative duties, but I get to head some of the most incredible research projects and we’ve made a number of discoveries in the past half year alone.” She went on to describe the most recent one in full detail.

Mark smiled at her enthusiasm. “That does sound very interesting. As I said, Starfleet agrees with you, though I’m sure you also enjoy being on vacation.” He suddenly snapped his fingers. “I just thought of something. I happen to have tickets for the Philharmonic performance this evening. I was planning to, well, let’s just say I thought I would be bringing a guest, but she won’t be able to make it. Would you and Justin be interested in using them instead?” He added, “It’s _Aida_ ; I know it’s always been one of your favorites.”

Janeway bent down to tie her shoe. “Actually, Justin isn’t here,” she responded, her tone deliberately casual. “He couldn’t get leave so I’m here solo.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Mark paused. “Say, would you like to come with me?”

“Oh, Mark, that’s sweet of you, but I really couldn’t impose,” she protested. “What if your friend changes her mind?”

“Unfortunately, there’s no chance of that,” he said, his mouth tightening. “I _had_ planned on bringing Emily to meet my folks this weekend, but we’re no longer together. So there’s no chance of her suddenly changing her mind and showing up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. 

Mark attempted a smile. “I’ve been telling myself that it’s better we ended things now, rather than later,” he said ruefully. “And in retrospect, there were all sorts of little warning signs that cropped up that I didn’t pay much attention to, so I guess this was for the best.” He shook his head, as if recalling some of the details of his now defunct relationship. “So, would you like to attend the Philharmonic with me?”

She smiled. “I’d love to.”  
***

Two weeks later, Janeway dropped her duffle bag on the floor of her cabin on the _Kyoto_ with a resounding thump. She got herself a cup of coffee and after checking her messages, sat down and rubbed her neck, thinking back to her visit to Indiana.

It had been a pleasant vacation after all. She and Mark had ended up spending a lot of time together, not just the evening at the Philharmonic, but going for walks and exploring some of the new restaurants and cafes in Bloomington. It had been nice seeing him again. He was very easy to talk to, proved to be a good listener, and truth be told, she’d found herself confiding more about her hopes and dreams regarding her career than she’d previously expressed even to Justin. 

It had also been nice to get away from all things Starfleet for a change. She felt refreshed and ready to take up her shipboard duties once more.

Her comm beeped. “Janeway here,” she said, expecting it to be the _Kyoto_ duty officer, apprising her of her schedule for the next week. She closed the contact to allow visual and saw, to her surprise, that it was Justin.

“Hey, Kathryn,” he said, his manner jubilant. Without giving her a chance to speak, he went on, “Guess what? After our last conversation, I called in some favors and I was able to free up some time. I already contacted the ski resort to see if we can reschedule our trip.”

“Hold on a second,” she said, lifting a hand for emphasis. “What are you saying? I thought you had this exchange mission and couldn’t get away.”

“Yes, I did, but as I was just saying, I was able to wrap things up more quickly than expected and managed to get leave now.” He looked at her hopefully. “So, what do you say? Are you set for some skiing?”

“But Justin, I just took leave,” she said with dismay.

He grew suddenly quiet and the enthusiasm left his face, leaving him expressionless. “What do you mean, _you just took leave_?”

“I mean, I went ahead with my original plans and decided to go on vacation.”

“Without me?”

She heard the hurt in his voice. “Well, we’d already scheduled and rescheduled this trip, and you cancelled on me _again._ You can’t really blame me for just going ahead without you,” she said defensively. “I’m sorry, but I had no idea you would suddenly be able to get away.”

He was silent for a long moment, taking in her words. “Where did you go?” he asked at last. “To Andor?”

“No, I went to Indiana to see my family.” She considered mentioning she’d seen Mark as well, but for some reason decided against it. “They send their love, and said they were sorry to miss you this time.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he said. With a hint of anger, he added, “I don’t suppose you told them it was a unilateral move on your part. You could have waited for me, you know.”

“I _have_ waited,” she snapped. “You gave me no indication of how long the Klingon exchange program was going to last or when you’d be free. How long am I supposed to wait for you?”

“It’s not like I had a choice,” he said hotly. “You’re a Starfleet officer, too. I shouldn’t have to explain to you what duty means.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And I shouldn’t have to explain to _you_ that a marriage isn’t something you can just take for granted.”

“I’ve never taken you for granted,” Justin shot back. “If anything, I’ve bent over backwards to support you in your career.”

Hot words bubbled to her lips, but with an effort, she choked them back. “Look, this is getting us nowhere. I’m sorry I went on vacation without you, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I’m also sorry you tried to reschedule the ski trip without talking to me first, but I can’t very well drop everything and go right this minute. I literally just got back to the _Kyoto_ an hour ago.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if counting to ten. “All right. We’ll just have to try again another time.”

She nodded. “That’s what we’ll do then.” She added, “Maybe in another two months?”

“Two months. Right.” He looked at her, and the expression in his eyes softened. “I promise I’ll do my best to spend more time with you, Kathryn.”

Attempting, and failing, to strike a light tone, she said, “I’ll hold you to it.”

The corners of his mouth turned down; she knew he understood she was dead serious. “Count on it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Lying in bed, her eyes half closed in post-coital relaxation, Janeway thought she heard the comm chime from the other room. She ignored it, focusing instead on Justin, who was deeply asleep. She cradled his head against her breasts and let out a sigh of contentment. 

It felt good to be in their apartment again, surrounded by familiar things. Their meetings over the past years had been few and far between and in new and unfamiliar places every time. This time they had come home.

When she’d mentioned presenting a paper on some of the _Kyoto_ ’s recent discoveries at an academic conference in San Francisco a month after their aborted vacation on Andor, Justin announced he’d be there, too. He was true to his word about spending more time together; he had attended her talk on multi-phase gravimetric pulses in decaying neutron stars, as well as some of the other engineering presentations. He’d remarked he’d found her research interesting, and had even followed up with some insightful questions. 

Now, he shifted in her arms and opened his eyes. She felt her breath catch at the depth of emotion she saw reflected back at her. He smiled. “Know what I want to do?”

Laughingly, she said, “Is this a trick question?”

“C’mon, guess,” he said playfully.

“Make passionate love to me.”

“Close.”

“Only close?” she murmured, reaching for him.

He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and held out his hand. “Let’s take a shower.”

“Good idea.”

As he tested the water temperature and turned to her in anticipation, she thought she heard the comm again. But if she had, she quickly forgot about it entirely as he lathered up her breasts and thighs, and she gave herself up entirely to the moment.

Afterward, he wrapped a towel around his waist. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want something?”

“Water would be great,” she said, reaching for a towel of her own. She trailed after him to the living room and saw him sitting in front of the communication console where the message indicator was flashing rapidly. 

Leaning over his shoulder, she got a quick glimpse of the readout on the screen. There were multiple new messages, all tagged with his ID code. “Someone’s obviously trying very hard to get in touch with you,” she said.

He keyed something in very quickly and the messages vanished. “Nothing important,” he said lightly as he stood up. “I’d promised our Ops officer I’d bring him back some Scotch from Earth, and he just wanted to clarify I’d gotten the right brand.”

“And that required multiple messages?”

“He apparently spread the word, and now other members of the crew want me to pick up some for them as well,” Justin said, with an exasperated look. “I guess no good deed goes unpunished.” He went to the kitchen and came back a minute later with two glasses. “Here you go.”

She took a deep drink. He put down his own barely touched glass and went back to the bedroom. “By the way,” she called out. “Did you remember to make dinner reservations?”

There was no answer. Janeway shrugged; he probably hadn’t heard her.

The cool water was good, but she decided she’d rather have coffee. She had just taken the steaming mug from the replicator when he came back into the room. To her surprise, he was wearing running clothes.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.

“I thought I’d go for a quick run before we head out to dinner,” he said. “And yes, I did make reservations. For 8 pm, like you said.” His earlier languid mood had vanished; he inexplicably seemed to be keyed up. He picked up his glass and drank it down quickly.

“I’m surprised you’ve got the energy,” she said, only half-teasingly. “Didn’t you have enough of a workout just now?”

He smiled and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be back soon.”

She finished her coffee, then got dressed and set about straightening their apartment a bit. The bedroom, in particular, looked like it had been hit by a whirlwind. She picked up his shirt from the floor and caught a whiff of his aftershave lotion. Smiling to herself, she acknowledged that this impromptu rendezvous had worked out better than she’d anticipated. The nagging worries she’d been experiencing over the past year melted away. She and Justin—and their marriage—were fine. All they really needed was to just spend some quality time together. She reflected that they didn’t need to wait for scheduled leaves; this conference was a perfect example of finding ways to see each other more frequently, albeit for a shorter period of time.

After two hours had gone by, she began to wonder where he was. She sat down at the computer console and tried calling him, only to hear the chirp of his comm badge from where it was lying on the coffee table. He hadn’t taken it with him. 

She pushed her chair away from the console, and then reconsidered. Leaning forward, she accessed his message inbox. After a few moments, she found the messages he’d deleted earlier. There were five of them, all in text format, identical in length, and from the same sender. 

Her curiosity got the better of her.

Telling herself she wasn’t really violating his privacy, she tried to access the content, but found it was encrypted. _Why on Earth would messages about Scotch require this level of security?_ she wondered. She tried a few decryption algorithms but nothing worked. She needed his password to access the key. After several more minutes, she was able to determine the key was seven characters in length. She frowned in concentration as she considered the possibilities, and then tried a few words that she thought he might have used. When she entered her own name, the first letter, “K”, was a match, but nothing else. 

Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration and entered “Kallie9.” Kallie was the name of Justin’s younger sister; he almost never spoke about her or his past family life, but he had mentioned at one time that his mother and sister were killed in a shuttle accident at the end of his first year at the Academy. Kallie was only nine years old at the time. 

A glance at the screen confirmed she’d found the key. She successfully decrypted the first message.

_Urgent. Must see you now. Chloe._

Stunned, Janeway moved on to the rest of the messages and confirmed they all were the same as the first.

She tried to think of a logical explanation, but could not escape her initial conclusion: _He was having an affair._ Her mind immediately rejected this—he couldn’t be, not _her_ Justin. He wouldn’t do something like this, not when he loved her as much as he said he did. But the evidence was staring her in the face and there was no escaping it.

She was still sitting at the console an hour and a half later when Justin returned home.

“Hey, Kathryn,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry I’m late, but you’ll never believe who I ran into—”

“Who is Chloe?” she said, as she swung around to meet him. She noted in passing that his T shirt and hair weren’t covered in sweat, as would be expected if he had truly been out running.

He tried to deflect the question. “I don’t know any--”

“Don’t lie to me,” she interrupted, her voice deadly calm. “You got a whole slew of messages from this woman saying she needs to see you, and off you went immediately.” She got up and started moving toward him, then stopped. “Tell me who she is.”

“Kathryn, don’t ask me that,” he said in a low voice. “Believe me, you’re better off not knowing. You have no idea what you’re getting into—”

“ _I said, tell me who she is!_ ”

Justin hesitated for a long moment. “Chloe is the code name of my handler,” he said at last. 

“Handler?”

He met her eyes unflinchingly. “I’m an agent for Section 31.” 

Janeway stared at her husband in shock. This was the answer to Justin’s behavior that had so puzzled and frustrated her, why he changed assignments so frequently--and why he repeatedly cancelled their plans with little or no notice. “You’re a member of Section 31?” she repeated numbly.

He nodded. 

“How can you be a part of them?” she said, aghast. “I’ve heard rumors about Section 31—they’re black ops. They’re said to be behind some _extremely_ ‘unsavory’ events, to put it mildly. Sabotage, instigating military coups, assassinations--” She broke off, unable to continue. _This was what Justin was involved in?_

“Part of what you’ve heard about the Section, and how they operate, is true,” Justin admitted. He leaned forward intently. “But there’s more to it than that. Their name comes from the original Federation Charter, Article 14, Section 31, which allows for extraordinary measures to be taken in times of extreme threat.” He raised his voice over the beginnings of her objection. “Section 31 deals with threats to the Federation that most people don’t even realize exist, threats that jeopardize the Federation's very survival.”

Janeway stared at him in disbelief. “And you _personally_ deal with these threats? How?”

“Whatever it takes,” he said, his voice heavy with meaning. “Whatever is necessary to eliminate it—permanently.”

Her heart sank at this confirmation that he was in much deeper than she thought. “And that makes everything all right? Does it justify espionage and assassinations?” 

“Don’t go ‘holier than thou’ on me,” Justin said defensively, though she noted in a corner of her mind that he didn’t deny it. “What about _your_ actions just now? Spying on me, accessing my personal messages without permission?” He gave a derisive laugh. “So much for trust.”

“I thought you were having an affair,” she whispered.

His expression changed swiftly at the hurt she knew was apparent in her eyes. “Kathryn, I’d never betray you.”

“Don’t you see what you already have?” she said, as she felt the tears welling up. “You’ve betrayed everything you purported to believe in, everything that Starfleet stands for!”

“I told you, Section 31 is part of Starfleet too, and a necessary part at that,” Justin countered. “There are times when someone has to get their hands dirty, to achieve the greater good for all.”

“In other words, the ends justify the means?” She looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time, stunned that he didn’t see the world the same way she did. “Do you _really_ believe that?”

“There are times when it’s true,” he said tightly. “Don’t be so naïve, Kathryn. The galaxy is a cold and harsh place, and not everyone plays by the same rules you do. You do what you have to do to survive.”

“Even murder?”

“You do what you have to do,” he said again.

Another thought struck her. “What about the Rangers?” she asked, referring to the elite Starfleet strike force that he’d belonged to when they were stationed together on board the _Icarus_. “Where do they fit in?”

“The Rangers are a front for Section 31,” he said, confirming her suspicions.

“You’ve been involved with them for _years_ , then.” The revelations kept coming, each new one hitting her harder than the last. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself, afraid for a moment that she might actually pass out. “Were you lying when you told me you’d resigned, before we got married? Were you still part of them when you were at UP?” 

He grabbed her upper arms, forced her to look at him. “I swear to you, I really did resign.” 

“Then why did you go back?” Janeway demanded. “Answer me that.”

“Because I’m needed,” he said, his eyes intent on her face. “Because I bring a skill set that is essential in many of our missions. Otherwise, you’ve got amateurs trying to do a pro’s job. And _that_ endangers lives needlessly. Case in point: A few years ago, the captain of the _Valiant_ , along with his security chief, attempted to infiltrate the Orion Syndicate. They’d had only rudimentary training, if any. Unsurprisingly, their cover was blown and they were killed, and their mission failed.”

“So you’re saying you would have done better?”

“If I’d been involved, the mission would _not_ have failed,” he said harshly. “Or here’s an example closer to home. Remember when you were taken captive on Urtea II? Do you know why that happened? Because a damn fool of an Admiral thought his knowledge of my team’s mission, to locate and destroy a Cardassian listening post, entitled him to become an active participant. Paris knew damn well how high the odds were of running into the Cardassians when he took that shuttle out, but did it anyway! _He_ thought he knew what he was getting into. He put _you_ , a raw ensign, in a situation that nearly cost you your life! Do you know what the Cardassians would have done to you if I hadn’t rescued you?”

“I’m fully aware of that,” she said, breaking free of his grasp. “Just like I’m aware that you’d underestimated the size of the Cardassian installation and their firepower, and as a result, I ended up hauling _your_ ass to safety when you were seriously injured during our escape,” she tartly reminded him.

“Yes, I was injured. I was _saving_ you,” he said. “We knew how large the installation was, that the odds were the strike force wouldn’t make it out alive. But we risked it anyway because our number one priority was to free the hostages!” 

Involuntarily, she shivered, remembering the phaser fight, the mayhem, the spraying blood and guards’ death groans as Justin mowed them down, remembered too how afterward, badly mauled, he’d fought for his life in Sickbay. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “Dredging up the past isn’t getting us anywhere. Your involvement in Section 31, what you must’ve done—I can’t—God, I’d almost rather you really _were_ having an affair than to find out you’re a--” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it out loud, then saw the stricken look on his face and softened her tone. “Justin, you _can’t_ keep working for them, you’ve got to quit Section 31.” Her voice rose in intensity. “Please,” she begged. “You did it before, you can do it again.”

He hesitated. 

She laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t you see your actions are subverting the very essence of what the Federation stands for?”

He covered her hand with his own, gripping it hard. “No, I’m _protecting_ the Federation and its aims.” 

“Do this for _me_ , Justin,” she pleaded. “Save the Federation another way, with legitimate service that can bear the light of day.”

She held her breath as he was silent for a long moment. “I see how important this is to you,” he said at last.

“Then you’ll leave?”

“I’ll try,” he said. She looked at him sharply, but he sounded sincere. “But I can’t just walk away. It’s going to take time.”

She’d won, but for some reason this didn’t make her feel any better. She realized that she could never quite see him the same way again; her knight in shining armor was now forever tarnished in her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Six months later, Janeway strode through the corridors at Starfleet Command. She was assigned to temporary duty at HQ for the next few months, as the _Kyoto_ was undergoing a major refit. Justin was currently, in his words, “between assignments” and so they were living together in San Francisco once again. 

It had taken a long time for her to get over his revelation about Section 31, and an even longer time before she was able to start trusting him again. He’d apologized over and over for upsetting her, but she couldn’t help wondering if he really understood her reaction. 

Whether from fear of losing her, or from genuine remorse over his actions, he’d promised he would leave the Section. Though she hated herself for doing so, now that they were together she found herself paying close attention to his behavior, looking for messages that went unacknowledged or unanswered, random meetings that took him away from Earth, even locally-run errands that seemed to take much longer than they should. So far, she couldn’t find evidence that proved he hadn’t kept his word.

She wondered if Justin had noticed she was scrutinizing his activities so closely, and then immediately shook her head at her own naiveté. Of course, he was aware. But instead of lashing out at her for her lack of trust, he’d displayed a kind of resigned acceptance that she found troubling as it was so unlike him; it was almost as if he felt he deserved her scorn. Ever since she’d returned to Earth, he’d been hesitant about making sexual overtures toward her, as if afraid of being rebuffed. As she couldn’t bring herself to be the initiator, the result was they hadn’t made love for a long time. A part of her was relieved to avoid such a level of intimacy while she was still so conflicted about him, but an even bigger part was disappointed. She still loved Justin, she’d always enjoyed their physical relationship, but the news that her husband was a covert operative who regularly engaged in illegal activities such as espionage and possibly murder—she still recoiled when she thought about it.

She still clung to the hope that with time, things between them would improve.

If her personal life currently left something to be desired, at least her career was taking off. She had advanced through the ranks rapidly, and had been made a full commander shortly before the _Kyoto_ went into drydock. Justin, on the other hand, was still just a lieutenant, the rank he’d been at when they’d first met nearly six years ago. But when she’d asked outright if he resented her success, he immediately claimed he was proud of the advances she’d made in her career. Privately, she thought his lack of promotions was probably at least partly due to his time in Section 31. Well, he was out of there now, so that should no longer be a factor.

She thought back to their conversation three years earlier when he told her he was moving on from UP, about how restless he was at being planet-bound, how he missed the stars. She watched him carefully to see if he felt the same way now and was relieved that there were no overt signs of discontent. He had just accepted a short-term engagement to teach some advanced engineering courses at the Academy. Sex aside, they’d fallen into a daily routine that ran smoothly—they made a point of eating together every night, and their conversation, while perhaps a bit superficial at times, no longer erupted into arguments as had happened so frequently in the past. He seemed genuinely content, for the most part. But there were also times when she’d catch him staring out the window, when he’d seem so far away. When asked what he was thinking, he gave some meaningless reply. Once she would have asked him to elaborate, but for now she was afraid to probe too deeply into the suddenly all too vulnerable fabric of their relationship. 

Lost in thought, she looked up, startled, when she heard someone call her name. 

“Kathryn!” Admiral Owen Paris quickened his step as he approached her with a broad grin. “Fancy meeting you here!” 

Her lips turning up in delight, Janeway said, “It’s nice to see you, too, sir.” It had been a while since she had last seen her former mentor. He was a bit paunchier around his middle, his fading blond hair was thinning, and there were additional lines around his blue eyes, but they were still as quick and penetrating as ever. 

Still smiling, he took her hands in his own and squeezed, holding them just a few seconds too long. “I was planning to send you a message this afternoon, and it’s so fortunate you’re already on Earth. We couldn’t have timed this any better.” 

Intrigued, she said, “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s all this about?” 

“Why don’t you join me at the Night Owl, and I’ll tell you all about it,” he said, referring to the local coffee shop frequented by a number of Starfleet personnel. “You’re available now, aren’t you?” 

Janeway mentally reviewed her schedule. “I can give you an hour, certainly.” 

“More than enough time,” Paris said. “Believe me, you won’t regret it.” He paused dramatically. “Kathryn Janeway, I’m about to make you the offer of a lifetime.”  
*** 

Later that evening, as they were finishing up dinner at home, Tighe sat and listened as Kathryn described her meetings at HQ. 

“I’ve been offered the position of chief science officer/XO on the Arias expedition to the Beta Quadrant,” she said. 

“Arias expedition?” 

“The Arias cluster is one of the most distant objects in the Beta Quadrant,” she replied. “It’s so far away, we’ve never had the opportunity to properly study it, until now. It appears to be in the midst of a ‘celestial nursery’, a cluster of stars millions of years younger than those in surrounding space. We may be seeing a microcosm of the Big Bang, might witness the birth of new stars. It’s the chance of a lifetime!” 

He couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm in her voice. “Sounds like quite a mission. How long is it supposed to last?” 

“It’s a deep-space assignment, so it’s scheduled to last a minimum of two years.” 

He gave a low whistle; it was much longer that he’d expected. “What ship are they sending, or will there be a mini-flotilla?” 

“Just a single ship, the _Al-Batani_ , an _Excelsior_ -class vessel; thirty-four decks and a crew complement of 750.” 

He nodded. “Quite a step up from the _Kyoto_ ,” he said, alluding to the fact that Kathryn’s current ship was a _New Orleans_ -class with a maximum capacity of 500 crew and officers. 

“There’s one hitch,” Kathryn said. “The _Al-Batani_ will travel so far out that after the first few months, communication opportunities will be few and far between.” 

This revelation gave Tighe some pause, but he was still in information-gathering mode. “Who’s the commanding officer?” 

“Admiral Owen Paris.” 

Tighe reared back. “Owen Paris? He’s the one who offered this to you?” He fought down his immediate feeling of anger. “Kathryn, are you seriously considering taking this?” 

“This is a tremendous opportunity,” she said, staring at him in puzzlement. “I can’t turn it down.” 

“There’ll be other assignments.” 

“Not like this, in which I get to be on the first ship exploring previously unknown space in a different galactic quadrant. It’s a once in a lifetime chance!” Her voice took on an edge. “Why do you think I should turn it down?” 

He rose from his seat and planted his hands, palms down, on the table in front of her. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” 

“Yes, because the only reason I can see is you’re being selfish and unsupportive of my career,” she said, her eyes narrowing. 

“I have made sacrifice after sacrifice for you and our marriage,” he said heatedly. “I initially took a post at UP, I’ve been trying to spend more time with you ever since that debacle of a ski trip, and I even agreed to leave—” He cut off the sentence, reluctant to bring up Section 31; he suspected she would never fully forgive him. “Don’t talk to _me_ about being unsupportive. When have you ever supported any of _my_ choices? You’ve continually held every single one of my career decisions against me since I left UP.” 

Kathryn got up as well and folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t agree with your choices,” she said, stating the obvious. His mouth turned down at the corner; at least she didn’t say she still thought they had all been mistakes. “But I’ve tried to support you to the best of my ability,” she added. 

“Have you?” he challenged. “You got mad at me for ‘letting your father down’ when I left UP, you were disdainful of the ships I was assigned to, you went _ballistic_ when you found out about Section 31, and now--” Tighe clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath. “But none of that matters now, because all Admiral Paris has to do is snap his fingers, and you come running.” 

“He personally recruited me for this mission, yes,” she said coolly. “Paris had his choice of any number of candidates; it’s a high-profile expedition, and he wants the best.” 

“And so given a choice between doing something that _he_ wants, and something that I do, of course, you choose him over _me_ ,” he said, his voice rising in volume. 

“This isn’t about you, Justin. It’s about me, and what _I_ want.” 

“You mean what Paris wants,” he said, his voice heavy with innuendo. 

“God, I am so sick of your insinuations about Admiral Paris!” she said, her own temper flaring. “How many times do I have to tell you, we have never been romantically involved! Do you honestly think I’m just waiting for the chance to jump into bed with him, once we’re serving together?” 

Switching tactics, Tighe said, “You’re the one who’s always complaining we never get enough time together. How it is supposed to help our marriage if we’re separated for two full years? Did that even cross your mind?” He saw an uncertain expression pass over her face. “What is it?” 

“I asked about the possibility of you getting an assignment on board the _Al-Batani_ , too,” she admitted reluctantly. 

His anger index soared even higher at this news, that she would presume to take a step like this on his behalf without his knowledge or consent. But before he could say anything, she went on, “But it didn’t work out anyway, as they only have ranking positions for senior officers and you’re still only a lieutenant.” She said the last part all in a rush, as if aware how deeply hurt he would be by this additional revelation. 

_She was really going to go._ Swallowing his pride, he adopted a more conciliatory tone. “Kathryn, please, don’t do this to us. If you go on this expedition, you’re abandoning us, you’re abandoning _me_ —” 

“There are plenty of officers who would jump at this chance,” she countered. “Do you know just how much you’re asking of me?” 

He met her gaze squarely. “Yes, I do.” 

“Give me one good reason why I should turn this down?” she challenged. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of doing in my Starfleet career. When I weigh everything, all the benefits as well as the disadvantages, it’s obvious that it’s worth it.” 

“Is it worth our marriage?” 

From her stunned expression, he thought that maybe he was finally getting through to her what a big deal this was, that the way she’d felt about his involvement in Section 31 was exactly how he felt about this mission. 

She was silent for a long moment. 

“I haven’t formally accepted yet,” she said at last. “I told the Admiral I’d let him know in another few days, after giving it some more thought.” 

He exhaled in relief. 

She held up one hand. “But it’s still my decision, Justin,” she said firmly. “And I will do what is best for me.” 

He knew then that she had already made up her mind. And that he had lost.  
*** 

Janeway resolutely set about cleaning up the kitchen, turning down Justin’s offer to help. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching her put the leftovers in the stasis unit and load the dishes in the refresher, and then abruptly announced, “I’m going to bed.” 

She kept her eyes resolutely on the container in her hands. “All right. Have a good night.” 

He lingered for another moment, and then left the room. She continued cleaning until everything was spotless, and then went into the living room. 

Even though she was tired, she picked up a PADD and settled into her favorite seat, the overstuffed armchair which didn’t quite match the décor of the rest of the room but was the perfect place to curl up with a good book. Emily Bronte’s _Wuthering Heights_ had always been one of her favorites, and she quickly lost herself in the tale of Heathcliff’s and Catherine’s doomed love. 

A few hours later, Janeway woke with a start. A glance at the chrono told her it was just past 1 am. Yawning, she headed for the bedroom. She went through an abbreviated form of her nightly routine and slipped quietly into bed, trying not to wake Justin. 

He stirred. “Kathryn?” 

“Shh, go back to sleep,” she said. 

“What time is it?” 

"It’s the middle of the night. I’m sorry I woke you.” 

He was quiet for so long she thought he’d fallen back asleep. Just as she was starting to drift off herself, she felt him move closer and slip his arm around her waist. His breath was warm against the back of her neck. Slowly, he moved his hand down the curve of her hip to her thigh. Taking her silence for acquiescence, he kissed the top of her shoulder as he reached to cup her breast. 

She tensed. “Justin…” 

“It’s been so long,” he murmured. “Please, Kathryn, don’t turn me away.” She didn’t resist as he pulled her toward him. 

He kissed her lips, her throat, her breast, and then tugged down her panties. She felt his fully erect penis brush against her sensitive areas, and then he thrust deeply inside. Feeling her own arousal, her breath caught in her throat, and she began to move in rhythm with him. She felt his mouth against her skin, felt his teeth as he nipped the hollow of her throat. His thrusts grew faster, harder. He was growing more excited as was she, as they moved toward a mutual climax. She heard him call out in a voice thick with emotion, and with difficulty she caught the words. “Stay, stay with me, love you so much, please don’t leave me, Kathryn!” 

In the heat of the moment, she nearly told him then what he wanted to hear, but something held her back. 

When she opened her eyes the next morning, full sunlight streamed in through the windows and she realized it was very late. Justin had already left for the day. She quickly showered and dressed, and then fumbled around in the bathroom vanity for the dermal regenerator. She ran it over the bruise at the base of her throat until it faded entirely, then twisted her hair up in what Justin had laughingly called her “bun of steel” early in their marriage. 

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared such a light-hearted moment together.  
*** 

At McKinley Station, high above Earth orbit, Janeway met with the engineering team involved in refurbishing the _Kyoto_ ’s astrometrics lab. She couldn’t help but contrast the plans for the upgrades with those Admiral Paris had shown her of the new labs on board the _Al-Batani_ , and thought of the unexplored regions that ship would soon set off to investigate. She knew the _Al-Batani_ had recently been brought to the station from UP, and would be launching in a matter of weeks. After checking the results of the latest diagnostics, instead of returning to San Francisco, she impulsively decided to see this vaunted ship for herself. 

The transporter technician did not raise an eyebrow, merely nodded when she gave him her destination. 

She walked through the dimly lit corridors of the _Al-Batani_ , marveling at the sheer size and expanse of the starship interior. She couldn’t help thinking that it would take a few weeks just to get acclimated. The few crewmembers she saw did not challenge her, or even seem surprised at her presence. She thought about going to the bridge, but that seemed to be too great a presumption. Instead, she made a quick solitary tour of the science labs, and then entered Engineering. 

A petite dark-haired woman looked up from a console. “Commander Janeway, welcome aboard! I’m Commander Maria Esposito, the chief engineer.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Janeway said, a little surprised to be greeted by name. “I’m just taking a look around the ship. It’s quite impressive.” 

Esposito smiled. “Glad to hear you think so, too. We were all very excited when Admiral Paris announced you would be joining us.” 

“The Admiral told you I would be coming to see the ship?” Janeway said, puzzled. 

“No, I meant joining the crew.” 

“There’s been some misunderstanding,” Janeway said immediately. “I haven’t joined the crew. That is, Admiral Paris offered me the posting, but I haven’t accepted yet.” 

“What are you waiting for?” Esposito said, her eyebrows raised in surprise, as if it had never crossed her mind that an offer wasn’t synonymous with acceptance. “Admiral Paris spoke very highly of your record, and assured us he couldn’t find a better choice for science officer and XO.” 

Janeway made a mental note to talk to the Admiral about tempering expectations. “I’m still considering all my options,” she said. “After all, I already have a position on the _Kyoto_.” 

“I may be biased, but I’m sure she can’t compare with the _Al-Batani_.” Esposito smiled. “Would you like a tour of the engineering complex?” 

“Yes, thank you, I would like that very much,” Janeway said, smiling in return.  
*** 

Two days later, Janeway went to Starfleet Command, to Admiral Paris’ office to tell him her decision about the assignment on board the _Al-Batani_. She had thought long and hard about her options, but in the end she kept coming back to the same place. She had been very impressed with what she’d seen in her impromptu tour of the ship, and the mission statement exemplified why she’d joined Starfleet in the first place. Any other considerations had to be secondary. 

When she’d called to discuss this with him, her father had also enthusiastically come down on the side of taking the offer. “Kathryn, that’s wonderful news!” Edward had said. “What an amazing opportunity for you. You must be so excited!” 

She forced a smile. “Yes, I am. It’s a great opportunity.” 

“I’m sure Justin must be very proud of you.” 

“Oh, he is,” she fibbed adroitly. She added, “Two years _is_ a long time to be apart, though.” 

“Well, you’ve been apart before, all in the course of duty,” her father commiserated. “Particularly in the early years of my career, your mother and I endured many separations as well. But as you know, we managed to make it work.” He ran a hand through his hair; she thought she detected a slight tremor in his motions but it quickly passed. “Welcome to Starfleet,” he said ruefully. “Sometimes we have to make sacrifices, especially when it comes to family, but it’s almost always worth it in the end.” 

And so she told Admiral Paris she would be honored to serve under him once more, this time as his chief science officer and XO. 

Even as she accepted the Admiral’s congratulations and listened to him describe his plans for the expedition, she wondered if she’d just signed the death warrant for her marriage. 


	9. Chapter 9

The _Al-Batani_ launched six weeks later. It had been a whirlwind of activity, finalizing all the major and minor details, agreeing on which navigational course to take, and making sure the ship was well-stocked and well provisioned. They would be a single ship alone, in uncharted territory, and with no one to rely on except themselves, they had to plan for every contingency. Owen Paris was in his element, and Janeway caught glimpses of the vibrant commander she had known on board the _Icarus_ several years earlier, before they had encountered the Cardassians.

To maintain communications, once the _Al-Batani_ was out of range of Federation satellites, they would use a series of relays to send messages back, depositing each “link in the chain” as they traveled outward. Instead of individual letters, let alone “real time” comms, Starfleet would send data packets consisting of batches of pre-recorded messages approximately every 10 days. The _Al-Batani_ crew would do the same, only in reverse. And the farther out they went, the longer a communication cycle would take.

The day before the launch, Janeway was scheduled to board the ship at 1100 hours. When the alarm went off that morning, she reached out to Justin, and then saw his side of the bed was empty. Hurrying into the other room, she found him sitting at the computer console, in full uniform, drinking a cup of coffee. 

“Hey,” she said. “I thought I’d missed you.”

“No,” he said, taking another sip. “That part comes after you leave.”

She felt a quick stab of annoyance, but refused to take the bait. The last thing she wanted to do now was fight. “What’s your schedule like today?”

“I’m running a lab in warp dynamics this morning,” he said, not taking his eyes off the console. “I need to finalize the lesson plan.”

“What time does the lab start?”

“Oh nine hundred hours.”

“But Justin,” she said in dismay, “I’m leaving two hours later.”

“So?”

“So if you go to the lab, you can’t see me off.”

He put down his empty cup and stood. She searched his face for signs of the lover who had held her in the night and begged her not to leave him, but he was nowhere to be found. Justin’s face was cold and expressionless as he said, “I haven’t seen you off for past missions. Why should this time be any different?”

She bit her lip. “Because it obviously _is_ different. I’ll be gone for much longer this time.”

“Oh, you finally realized that?” he shot back. “Let’s quit pretending, Kathryn, that this is just another tour of duty.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “You keep acting like I’m taking this position just to spite you. I’ve told you over and over that this is about me, not about you. Why do you insist on taking this so personally?”

He met her gaze unflinchingly. “Because it _is_ , Kathryn. No matter what you keep telling yourself.” 

He turned to go, and then stopped and looked at her once more. His expression softened. “Kathryn…good luck with everything. I hope you make some amazing discoveries out there.” 

She felt the tears well up in her eyes and squeezed them tightly shut. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

His eyes flashed but he obliged, very quickly and lightly brushed his lips against hers and then he was gone.   
***

Over the ensuing months, Janeway used the excuse of the time lag for why she didn’t hear from Justin. She knew he was still upset at her decision to go on this expedition, but she hadn’t quite realized just how deep his anger went. 

It wasn’t exactly accurate to say there had been _no_ communication; he’d sent her a birthday message (short and generic) early on, but somehow missed their anniversary two months later. 

About five months into the Al-Batani’s journey, Janeway was in her cabin reading, unwinding after completing her shift, when she heard the door signal.

“Come in,” she called, and was somehow not surprised to see it was Admiral Paris. He’d lately made a habit of dropping in on her in the evening. They’d have a cup of tea and review the major events of the previous 24 hours. She felt a momentary flash of resentment at the intrusion; she was tired and had been thinking of turning in early. But she forced a smile.

“Kathryn, how are you?” Owen said. He was still in full uniform; she was suddenly conscious that she was wearing only a simple T shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “You spent so much time in the Astrometrics lab today, I hardly saw you on the bridge during your shift.”

“We’re still going over the data from the nebula we passed three days ago,” she said. “It’s a real treasure trove of information, and I feel like we’ve still just barely skimmed the surface.”

“I look forward to reading your report,” he said, glancing in the direction of the replicator expectantly.

Janeway rose to her feet with a start. “Sorry,” she said as she quickly made her way to the replicator. “Still the usual?”

“Yes. English breakfast tea,” he said, “with just a dash of milk.” 

A few moments later she carried over his tea. His hand brushed hers as he took the cup from her. Leaning back in his chair, he took a sip.

“I don’t know how you get any sleep, drinking that stuff so close to bedtime,” he said, nodding at her mug of coffee. “Unless it’s decaf?”

She shuddered. “Heavens, no. I only drink the real thing. As for sleep, I think my body is inured to the caffeine. I don’t sleep all that long, anyway, usually just six or seven hours,” she added. For some reason, she suddenly recalled how Justin usually got by on just four hours a night and woke fully refreshed.

“By the way,” Owen said, putting his empty cup down on a side table. “We received another batch of letters earlier today.”

“Yes, I know,” she replied. “Mine were already downloaded to my console when I came off duty.”

He smiled. “Well, I wanted to congratulate you.”

“Congratulate me? For what?” she said, puzzled.

“On Justin’s promotion to commander, of course,” Owen said. 

“Oh, yes,” Janeway said, attempting to hide her surprise as this was the first time she’d heard of Justin being up for a promotion.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know about this,” Owen pressed.

“I knew it was in the works,” she improvised swiftly, “but wasn’t sure exactly when it would be coming through.”

Owen nodded, satisfied. “I received the official list of recent promotions from Starfleet Command in the last data packet, so I suppose I had some advance knowledge. It’s about time he got that third pip, and very well deserved, Kathryn. I know you’re very proud of him.” He leaned forward and said, reassuringly, “I’m sure you’ll hear from him in the next data packet.”

The thought crossed Janeway’s mind that perhaps Justin was correct when he accused Owen of involving himself a bit too heavily in her life. “It’s a pity he didn’t get this rank sooner,” she said a bit pithily, “because then maybe you would have taken him on this mission as well. Not that it should have mattered,” she added, “as you know as well as I do you won’t find a more brilliant engineer than Justin.”

“His rank, or lack thereof, wasn’t the real reason I didn’t ask Justin,” Owen said quite seriously. “It’s because I knew that he would not, _could not_ accept the assignment.” 

“What do you mean? Why not?” Janeway asked.

“Because of his involvement in Section 31.” 

Janeway pushed back the stab of surprise that Owen was privy to that information. “You’re mistaken,” she said immediately. “Justin isn’t part of the Section anymore.” 

“According to my sources, he still is.”

“Your sources are wrong.”

Owen gave her a pitying smile, but didn’t belabor the point.  
***

Kathryn’s absence hit him harder than he’d expected.

Tighe hadn’t believed she would actually take the assignment, walk away from him like that, but if there was one thing he knew about Kathryn, it was that there was no dissuading her once she’d made up her mind. He’d humbled himself, begged her to stay, but she had made her priorities very clear.

Two months after she’d left, his teaching obligations over, he started to take a good hard look at his life and consider where he went from here.

He was the first to admit he’d had to learn the hard way to take another person into consideration when making plans, or major life decisions. He conceded that, especially in the beginning of their married life, he’d done a less than stellar job of communicating, which had led to some of their arguments. He remembered what Leah Brahms had said to him early in his tenure at UP, about how it was a struggle for Starfleet couples to make it work, plagued as they were by the almost constant separations. 

He was married but lonely, in a committed relationship but never able to spend time with his wife. In his experience, marriage represented all constraints and no advantages. If he were to be honest with himself, even before Kathryn had left, there was already a divide between them, and her decision to go on the Arias expedition had only deepened it. Kathryn couldn’t get over his part in Section 31, and he doubted he would get over any time soon the way she’d chosen to follow Owen Paris instead of staying with him. 

As it turned out, he hadn’t made the break with the Section after all. He’d been on the verge of doing so, had already told them in no uncertain terms that he was taking some time off to forestall burnout, but then the Arias expedition had come up. And so he’d turned back to the one thing in his life he could still count on, his duty, his obligations to do his best to help keep the Federation safe. He wasn’t blind to their flaws, but he knew in his heart this was how he could best serve.

And now, months later, he was on his way back from some Federation colonies located just on the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone which had undergone a very bizarre attack. It was as if a giant scoop had lifted the colonies--structures, inhabitants, fields, and machinery--and carried them away. They had no idea who was responsible. The energy readings were like nothing he’d ever encountered before, and he was looking forward to studying them in greater detail and scope back at the Section research facility on Earth. 

He checked his chrono. Four more hours until his transport was due to leave, so here he sat, nursing a drink and waiting, in a dingy bar like hundreds of others across the sector. 

A woman sat down next to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“It is now.”

“What are you drinking?” she asked. 

He turned to get a better look. She was attractive enough, probably in her early 30’s, dressed more or less conventionally in a form-fitting jumpsuit that bore the station insignia. But what made him look again was the strawberry blond hair hanging halfway down her back. He’d always had a thing for redheads.

“Bourbon,” he replied. 

She signaled to the bartender. “I myself prefer a Deltan sunrise – an authentic one,” she emphasized. 

“Those contain contraband ingredients,” he pointed out. 

“Of course, what else would be the point?” she said archly, laying her hand very close to his on the surface of the bar. 

He was amused at how she was flirting with him quite aggressively, but couldn’t deny he was enjoying the attention. It had been a long time since he had had any feminine companionship, or had someone look at him appreciatively and without disappointment in her eyes. “So what did you say your name is?” 

“I didn’t, but it’s Lorelei.”

“Justin.” He lifted his glass to her. “Here’s to chance encounters.” Her eyes met his as she smiled and clinked glasses with him.


	10. Chapter 10

_One year later_

The _Al-Batani_ had been trapped for three days by intense gravimetric forces inside a proto-nebula. The more power they applied to the engines, the more entrenched the ship became. Finally, after working round the clock with the engineering team, Janeway was able to devise a way to break the ship free. 

Janeway headed back to her quarters for the first time in days, exhausted but with a sense of a job well done. 

After a leisurely meal, she rewarded herself with a long luxurious bath. Before the _Al-Batani_ ’s launch, Owen Paris had been amused at her reaction to finding out the senior officers’ quarters all came with full-sized tubs, but she had been quite serious when she’d told him she considered it a basic necessity. She nearly fell asleep right there and then in the hot soapy water, but roused herself enough to pull on some Starfleet-issue sweats and head back into the main room. She sat down at the desk console and accessed the latest batch of messages that had arrived during the crisis, but hadn’t had a chance to look at until now. 

Once again, there was no message from Justin. It had been nearly a year since she’d heard from him, and she had no idea what he was doing, let alone thinking or feeling. She tried to get a handle on how she felt about his continuing silence. They hadn’t parted on good terms, and she now saw clearly that things had been shaky between them for a long time before that. She shouldn’t have left things so unresolved, she realized now. One way or the other, she should have forced the issue. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so at the time, and now there was absolutely nothing she could do, as she was so far away. She picked up the holo of him that she’d brought along on every posting she’d had since Command School, and looked at it for a long time. She felt the rush of tears, but resolutely wiped them away, and turned her attention back to her inbox. 

There was a message from Mark; since their chance encounter in Indiana a couple of years back, they’d struck up an ongoing correspondence. She was glad that they’d maintained contact; she enjoyed hearing the day to day details of his life, about the latest issues debated by the Questor Group, and he seemed genuinely interested in turn in hearing about the _Al-Batani_ ’s latest discoveries.

There was also a message from her parents. She had been shocked at an earlier message (a rare holovid as opposed to the more common audio-only) in which Edward had looked noticeably ill. She’d been concerned something was wrong, and now played her mother’s letter with trepidation.

“Hello, darling,” Gretchen said. “Thanks for your last message. We’re always so happy to hear from you, and are glad that this mission is going so well for you. Your father in particular is interested in the details of the ‘celestial nursery’ you described last time. He won’t admit it, of course, but I think he’s also relieved to hear that the ship is more than up to the task of this expedition, despite going for such a long period of time without regular maintenance.”

Kathryn smiled fondly at hearing this, and then her smile faded as Gretchen continued.

“You asked about Dad’s health in your last letter. He didn’t want to tell you, at least not while you’re so far away, but I think you should know what is going on. About a year ago, he began experiencing some symptoms. He brushed them off at first, but during the last few months they progressed to the point where he actually broke down and agreed to get checked out at Starfleet Medical.” Gretchen hesitated. “I’m afraid it’s bad news, Kathryn. The official diagnosis is Irumodic Syndrome.” Gretchen’s voice faltered for a moment. “I know you’re going to look this up immediately, but I’ll save you the trouble. Irumodic Syndrome is a degenerative neurological disorder that causes deterioration of the synaptic pathways. Sometimes there are tremors and muscle weakness, especially in the early stages, but the condition primarily manifests in confusion, delusions, and eventually death. That’s not where Dad is right now; he’s having trouble getting around physically, but his mind is still as sharp as ever. The decline can take years. There _is_ a treatment, but it only partially relieves the symptoms for a short time. It’s not a cure.” Gretchen closed her eyes for a moment. “My darling, you have to be strong. I’m sorry to let you know like this, but I think it would be even worse for you to come back and discover we’d been keeping this from you.”

Kathryn stared at the screen in disbelief. Her father was ill, dying…for as long as she could remember, he had always been a pillar of strength, so strong and vital. When she was a child, he had seemed the most wonderful man in the world, an opinion she’d had little cause to change once she was an adult. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him; her heart clenched at the prospect.

“Computer. Begin message to Admiral Edward Janeway, to send in the next outgoing data packet.” As she started recording a message to her father, telling him how much she loved him, the tears began to fall and she didn’t bother wiping them away. He’d begun having symptoms a year ago, her mother had said, which put it around the time of the _Al-Batani_ ’s launch. She couldn’t believe they had kept this a secret for as long as they had, but in all fairness, they hadn’t had any concrete evidence there was something wrong. Until now.

She was also worried about her mother and sister, wondering how they were holding up. She wished more than anything that she was there with them. The _Al-Batani_ was just past the halfway mark of her mission; they weren’t due to even begin the long journey back home for another 18 days. Rationally, Kathryn knew there was no way she could instantly transport herself back home. It would be at least another year until they were back at Earth.

All she could do was hope that her father would still be alive when she returned.  
***

_Six months later_

Tighe leaned back in his seat and watched Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Shelby pace the perimeter of the room. Inexplicably, her reaction to the news that a Borg cube was on its way to Sector 001 seemed to be excitement rather than trepidation.

It had been a little over a year since Tighe had returned from the site of the former colonies bordering the Romulan Neutral Zone—former, as the entire physical infrastructure, including the colonists themselves, had vanished, as if something had scooped them up and carried them away. He’d studied the unique energy signatures for months, as well as additional data available to him through Section 31. He’d also been aided by the logs and readings of the _Enterprise-D_ from their initial encounter with a mysterious ship which had sliced through their shields as if they weren’t even there. With that information, he’d finally been able to put a name to the source of the attack on the colonies: Borg. 

Within a few weeks of the initial attack on the _Enterprise-D_ , Shelby arrived from Starfleet Tactical to aid Tighe and his team in their quest to find a defense or viable weapon against this new formidable enemy. Now, months later, their sense of urgency was heightened as they’d just received word another set of Federation colonies had been obliterated without a trace.

Working closely together, Tighe had developed a grudging respect for Shelby. She was bright enough but her ambition was too nakedly raw even for him. “Lead, follow, or get out of my way” was her motto, which she’d proved several times—both in and out of bed--although she did seem to have a healthy respect for his own expertise. 

“I want to go over the data one more time before I leave,” Shelby said now. “See if there’s anything we’ve missed.” She was taking a position as an observer on board the _Enterprise-D_ , as they prepared to investigate the latest attack site of the New Providence colony on Jouret IV. She didn’t add that the possibility of encountering the Borg was very high, but it was on both their minds. 

“Looking forward to being on the _Enterprise_?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said frankly. She absent-mindedly pushed back a wisp of frizzy blonde hair that had escaped from her once-neat ‘updo. “Admiral Hansen told me he’s going to recommend me for the XO slot.” She grimaced. “That is, assuming Riker will finally move on to a command of his own. Rumor has it he’s been offered the _Melbourne_.” Almost to herself, she added, “I can’t believe he’s turned down more than one chance to have his own ship already.”

“And if he turns this one down, too?” Tighe said, unable to resist baiting her. 

“He won’t,” Shelby said confidently. “He’s not going to be getting any more chances after this. That spot is as good as mine—after the successful conclusion of our current mission, of course.” 

In a way, Shelby reminded him of a much more aggressive version of Kathryn. Shelby seemed to lack the vulnerability—no, softness, though that wasn’t the right word either to describe Kathryn’s demeanor--which masked her inner strength. Now that Kathryn had risen through the ranks to be within a heartbeat of a command of her own, he assumed it was more outwardly apparent. He crushed that thought immediately. Kathryn had been gone for more than a year and a half, and he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on her continued absence--or how it was affecting him--especially now that there was so much on the line.

Listening to Shelby go on and on, Tighe had a fleeting thought that maybe he’d lost his edge. He was a Section 31 operative with a strong engineering background; Shelby was just an ordinary Command Track officer. He’d thought he would be the obvious choice to take the observer/expert role on board the _Enterprise_ , and had been surprised when Shelby calmly announced _she_ would be going, an assertion immediately backed up by Admiral Hansen. Instead, the Section ordered him to continue work on advanced weaponry; expecting a major defeat at the hands of the Borg in the immediate future, the Section was playing the long game and wanted to make sure that they had their best people out of harm's way so they could live and fight another day.

Tighe was only half paying attention to Shelby’s words on Riker, as he wasn’t really interested in ‘Fleet politics or gossip. He was much more interested in the problem at hand. “Don’t forget,” he reminded Shelby wryly, “that the _Enterprise_ crewmembers are the ones who made First Contact with the Borg. They’re the ones who gathered a great deal of the data we’ve been poring over for the past few months.” 

“They may have made the initial discoveries,” Shelby countered, “but I— _we_ —are the ones who have been working on turning the data into something we can use.” She turned to him expectantly.

Tighe straightened up and rubbed his face wearily; they’d had this conversation so many times before. “The problem is we still don’t have enough information.” He paused. “Here’s what we _do_ know. The Borg use a tractor beam to seize a ship and drain its shields; it took them only seconds to drain the _Enterprise_ ’s shields during that first encounter, and they were able to hold it immobile against the full force of its warp drive.” 

“But we determined that it _is_ possible for a ship to resist the tractor beam.”

“Yes, if the crew cycles the shields through different energy frequencies--but it will only work for a short time.” He anticipated her next question. “They could try to prevent the tractor beam from locking onto them in the first place by rapidly modulating the energy frequency of their shields. However, it would take less than half a minute for the Borg to adapt the tractor beam to compensate.” 

“So much for the tractor beam,” Shelby said, biting her lip. “Let’s talk about destroying the cube. To do so, we have to find a way to take down their shields first.”

“The Borg cubes don’t appear to utilize traditional energy shields. Instead, they employ a subspace electromagnetic field that can be altered to adapt to enemy weaponry. Again, varying the frequency and modulation of the energy of our weapons may have some effect, but only for a short time. The Borg can adapt to explosives, such as photon torpedoes, with ease, so it’s likely they can also adapt their weapons to their opponent's defenses.” 

Shelby resumed her pacing. “What makes them so invincible?”

Tighe exhaled loudly. “It’s the redundancy of their systems; that keeps them going until the hive mind can figure out a way to adapt. And it’s instantaneous. Once one individual unit, or drone, adapts, they all do simultaneously. Our estimate is that a cube could remain functional even if 78 percent of it was rendered inoperable due to the redundant nature of its key systems.” 

“We need a way to destroy them,” Shelby said, as if to herself.

“The only way we could destroy a Borg cube is to use a weapon so powerful that just one or two shots would do the trick,” Tighe said flatly.

“Any progress on that front that I don’t know about?”

“We’ve been considering incorporating a chronotron particle emission in a powerful cobalt torpedo; this might prevent the Borg from adapting to the weapon,” Tighe answered. “The problem is it would take months to develop, which we don’t have.” 

“We’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got,” Shelby said decidedly. “And who knows, maybe some of the _Enterprise_ ’s hotshot engineers might have some ideas as well.”

Two days later, she departed for the _Enterprise_ in high spirits, her excitement clearly visible. Tighe wondered fleetingly if he would see her again—and if there would be anything left of the Federation for her to return to.  
***

Like every other person in the Alpha Quadrant, Tighe and his team were glued to the reports coming in from Wolf 359 where the Starfleet fleet, under Admiral PJ Hansen’s command, had gathered. He was aghast at the earlier news of Picard’s abduction and assimilation, but his mind leaped ahead to the consideration of what they would do now that the Borg had access to the captain’s knowledge of Starfleet security and defenses. 

“Picard would never betray Starfleet or the Federation,” Lieutenant Sergeis said immediately.

“Assimilation happens against your will,” Tighe pointed out. “You no longer have control over your own thoughts or actions. You become a slave to the hive mind.”

“Picard is strong,” Sergeis insisted. “He’ll be able to hold out.”

“No one should ever have to be tested this way, but every man has his breaking point,” Tighe said flatly. 

Unfortunately, he was proved to be right. 

For the first time, he was grateful that Kathryn was aboard the _Al-Batani_ , still out in the distant reaches of the Beta Quadrant and far removed from the action, especially when he heard that the _Kyoto_ , her previous posting, was lost in battle with all hands. Even after the _Enterprise_ managed to neutralize the Borg cube, it was clear that it would take a long time for Starfleet to recover from the devastation of the battle at Wolf 359. The toll was high: thirty nine ships were lost, others severely damaged, and there were 11,000 dead.  
***

After the losses at Wolf 359, Starfleet announced it would undergo an accelerated rebuilding process to bring the fleet back up to full strength. To Tighe’s surprise, Shelby contacted him to say she was being reassigned to Utopia Planitia to help oversee the process.

“What about the _Enterprise_?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Riker’s not going anywhere,” she replied with a frown, but then brightened. “But Admiral Laurel is looking forward to my help as his number two in the department of Fabrication and Design.” 

“ _Admiral_ Laurel?” Tighe asked, with a faint emphasis on the rank, as he remembered the man as a captain from his own time at UP. “He’s now the head of the department?” 

“Didn’t you know?” Shelby said. “Edward Janeway is suffering from some mysterious illness and stepped down a few months ago.” 

After he broke the connection, Tighe debated contacting Edward, but in the end, he opted not to. For whatever reason, none of the Janeways had mentioned anything to him about Edward’s health. Perhaps they assumed he’d hear about it from Kathryn, or maybe they were keeping it from her as well while she was so far away. It was not something he could ask. He also didn’t know what she had told her parents about the tensions in their marriage, and he did not want to be the one to break the news--especially as he had no idea what would happen when she did eventually return home.


	11. Chapter 11

_Four months later_

Janeway stood outside Admiral Paris’s quarters and signaled again. There was no answer.

It had been four weeks since they’d learned that Lieutenant Tom Paris, Owen’s son, had been involved in an accident above Caldik Prime. Three Starfleet officers from the _USS Exeter_ were dead. The details and circumstances surrounding the accident remained sketchy. Relieved and grateful that his son was alive, Owen had cursed the communication lag that forced him to wait for the next data packet—and then the one after that--before he could learn more about what happened.

Another batch of letters had arrived two days ago. Janeway hadn’t thought much of it when Owen didn’t come by her quarters that evening. She’d assumed he was catching up on news from home—both official and private—as she herself was doing. But the next day, he’d spent his duty shift holed up in his Ready Room. Today, he hadn’t even left his cabin and now was refusing to answer his door.

She signaled again. “Admiral, it’s Kathryn. Please let me in.”

Finally the door opened. Janeway took a few steps into the room and then stopped, shocked by Owen’s appearance. His skin had a grayish cast and there were large bags under his eyes. Unlike every other time she’d seen him on this voyage, he was not in uniform but wearing an ill-fitting shirt and pants. He was unshaven as well, and his eyes looked haunted. Janeway thought fleetingly she hadn’t seen him like this since the _Icarus_ , after their rescue from the Cardassians. 

“What is it, Kathryn?” he asked wearily, as he waved her to a seat.

Janeway had never been inside his quarters before and she couldn’t help glancing around as she sat down on the couch. His rooms were roughly the same size as her own, but with a different layout, and Owen had apparently taken the trouble to have a custom desk and other furnishings installed. There were several holos placed on a shelf against the wall, primarily of Owen’s daughters as well as his son Tom. To her surprise, Janeway spotted a picture of herself with Owen, dating back to their days on the _Icarus_.

“I’m concerned about you,” she said. “You haven’t been on the bridge for the last two days, and by the looks of you, you probably haven’t slept at all in that time, either. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” she insisted. “When’s the last time you had anything to eat?” Not waiting for an answer, she went to his replicator and punched in a few commands. Within a few moments, she brought over a tray containing a sandwich and a cup of tea and placed it on the coffee table. She sat down once more and looked at him expectantly.

He gave her a baleful look. “Are you here as my XO, or my mother?”

“I’m here as your XO, _and_ as your friend who’s worried about you,” she replied, meeting his gaze. “Come on, Owen, why don’t you tell me what’s the matter?”

He sighed heavily as he sat down beside her. “I received an update about what happened at Caldik Prime.” He paused. “It turns out it wasn’t an accident.”

“Not an accident?” she repeated.

“No. Instead, you had some bored and cocky junior officers who assumed the rules don’t apply to them, and decided to go joyriding,” Owen said with a flash of anger. “Ever heard of the Kolvoord Starburst?”

Janeway drew in a sharp intake of breath. “You mean they actually attempted--that’s a forbidden maneuver--”

“And with good reason,” Owen shot back, and then his voice broke. “My son Tom was the instigator…he not only suggested the stunt, but was also at the helm when the shuttlecraft spun out of control. And as a result of his _severe_ lack of judgement, three Starfleet officers are dead.”

Janeway opened her mouth to speak, but Owen wasn’t finished yet.

“Worse than the deed itself was the attempted cover up. Tom lied during the initial inquiry, and only came clean when other facts came to light.” Owen shook his head as if not really believing what he was about to say next. “He’s been dishonorably discharged from Starfleet for reckless endangerment, dereliction of duty, wanton destruction of Starfleet property, and lying to a senior officer.”

Janeway moved closer to him and gently laid her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

He shook his head.

Janeway was at a loss as to what to say. Through all the years she’d known him, Owen had always spoken about Tom in the most glowing terms—he was the golden child who never seemed to put a foot wrong, at least to hear Owen tell it. And now he’d messed up in a major way. 

She didn’t blame Owen for being upset, but she couldn’t help contrasting his reaction now with how stoically he’d taken the recent news of the Borg incursion into the Alpha Quadrant--and the decimation of the fleet at Wolf 359. The reactions of the _Al-Batani_ crew had ranged from horror at the unimaginable losses, to survivor’s guilt at being out of harm’s way while their comrades had died. She herself had initially been relieved to see Justin’s name was not on any of the casualty lists, but the news of the _Kyoto_ ’s destruction had hit her hard. At the time, she’d marveled how always in control Owen seemed to be, how nothing appeared to faze him; by virtue of his longer career in Starfleet, he was bound to know so many more of the officers who had been lost, including Admiral Hansen, the commander of the fleet. Now, thanks to his son’s screwup, it seemed like his emotions had finally caught up with him. 

“Will you be back on duty tomorrow?”

He didn’t reply.

Janeway flashed back to the last time she’d seen him this devastated, on the _Icarus_. She remembered, too, how long it took him to snap out of the depression that had descended in the aftermath of his captivity. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “You have my deepest sympathy for what you’re going through. But the ship needs its commanding officer. Bad news or not, you can’t just hide from your responsibilities and stay secluded here for an extended period of time, wallowing in your emotions.” Realizing how harsh she sounded, she softened her tone and tried to appeal to his sense of duty. “Owen, I’ve always looked up to you, considered you the perfect commander. Your crew needs you; it hasn’t been that long since we heard about the devastation at Wolf 359 when the Borg attack took out 39 of our ships.” Her voice trembled as she thought once again about the many friends and Starfleet officers who had died. “We need you to help us be strong in the face of adversity.” 

Owen wasn’t listening to her. “He had the potential to do so much in Starfleet, and now he’s thrown it all away.” His voice rose in volume, whether in sorrow or anger she couldn’t say. “ _How_ could Tom have so recklessly jeopardized the lives of his crewmates and then _lie_ about it? Didn’t I teach him any better than that, didn’t I raise him to behave honorably?” 

Janeway had the fleeting uncharitable thought that Owen seemed more concerned how his son’s actions reflected on him than about Tom’s actual welfare. From what he had related about his son over the years, Janeway guessed that Owen had always tried to live vicariously through Tom, and had mapped out his whole career for him – first at the helm of a starship, followed by a successful career in command. And now, Owen’s plans were in ruins. 

“Owen, Tom is responsible for his own actions, not _you_ ,” she said, a bit sharply, trying to get through to him. “He made his own decisions, for his own reasons.” 

Owen got up from the couch and went to the viewport, where the stars showed the characteristic distortions seen from a ship at warp. Without turning around, he said plaintively, “But what will he do now? Without Starfleet, what does he have left?” 

Janeway relaxed a bit, relieved to see her thought of just a moment ago was unfounded. “He can still make a productive life for himself, outside of Starfleet,” she said softly, though in the back of her mind she knew she couldn’t contemplate such a choice for herself. 

He sighed heavily. “I wasn’t always there for him during his formative years. Due to my ‘Fleet commitments, I couldn’t always show up for his school or sporting events. I openly disapproved of some of his choices at the Academy—” 

Janeway joined him and put her hand on his arm once more. “Owen,” she said, as she looked deeply in his eyes. “I know you’re hurting for him now, but you’ve got to let _him_ deal with the consequences of his actions. You can’t do it for him. He’s a grown man, not a little boy, and you can’t keep trying to look out for him forever.” She didn’t add that their current physical distance made it even harder. “All you can do at present is send him a message telling him how much you love him, how he’ll always have your support.”

Owen shook his head. “I can’t do that. I can’t support what Tom did, I can’t even _recognize_ my son in all this…”

“Owen, that’s not the answer,” she said, aghast. “You can’t just turn your back on him--”

“You can’t understand because you’re not a parent.”

“No, I’m not, but I know what it’s like to have a parent and what a child needs--” 

“Kathryn, your heart’s in the right place, but you just don’t understand,” Owen said firmly. Going over to the tray on the coffee table, he picked up the sandwich and then put it down again almost immediately without even tasting it.

Janeway exhaled slowly. She thought the way Owen was handling the situation with his son was completely wrong, but it wasn’t her place to say more than she already had. 

“You should try to eat something,” she said quietly. “If that sandwich is not to your liking, I can get you something else.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” he said, reaching out and grasping her arms, bringing her closer. “You’ve always been so thoughtful and considerate, all the years I’ve known you. I appreciate what I have in you as my XO – and my friend.” His arms tightened around her, and then, without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips.

Before Janeway could react, Owen immediately released her. “Oh, God, Kathryn, I didn’t mean to—” His demeanor changed rapidly and he took a few steps back, putting some distance between them. In a more formal tone, he said, “I apologize for crossing any lines.”

Stunned at what just happened, Janeway managed to say, “Owen, I care about you very much. I’ve always thought highly of you as my commanding officer, but nothing more.”

“No, of course not,” he said hurriedly. “Both of us are married, after all—” He retreated further away from her. “Obviously, this will never happen again.”

“Yes, it would be best for all concerned if we just forget this ever happened,” she said and quickly left his cabin, not looking back.

The next day, when Admiral Paris returned to the bridge, Janeway tensed involuntarily, thinking about what had occurred the night before. For all Justin’s oft-repeated insinuations, she _hadn’t_ considered the Admiral in a romantic light at all, at least not consciously. She recalled their kiss and wondered fleetingly what would have happened if he hadn’t pulled back when he did. _It didn’t mean anything, he was just feeling very vulnerable at that time,_ she told herself firmly and waited for him to speak.

“Commander,” he said to her as he sat down in the center seat reserved for the captain of the ship.

“Admiral,” she said, her tone matching his in formality. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

He gave her a faint smile. “Yes, I am. Thank you.” He turned to the Operations officer. “Mr. Pauley, report.”

Janeway let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, their professional relationship gradually resumed its former footing. But Owen stopped coming by her quarters in the evening.  
***

Tighe entered Chloe’s suite and stopped, wondering where she was; had she forgotten about their appointment? He glanced around the outer chamber, absently noting the addition of some new artwork since he’d last been here. At the sound of a door opening, he turned around and saw her emerging from the other room. He caught a brief glimpse of the bedroom beyond. She was wearing a dark green wrap dress, which looked like it was held together only precariously around the curves of her body. He himself was wearing his uniform, which had become his second skin after all this time.

After the _Enterprise-D_ successfully neutralized the Borg threat, just minutes before the cube reached Earth, he and his team had put in months of additional effort to develop defensive weapons they believed would be effective the next time. On paper, their work had been successful, though of course he was not eager to put it to the test. More promisingly, inspired by Locutus/Picard’s suggestion to trigger the Borg to enter a regeneration cycle that eventually led to their destruction, Tighe had personally conceived of and developed a seemingly innocuous virus which over time would commandeer progressively larger amounts of the Borg network resources, thus severely compromising their adaptive abilities. In theory, all they needed was to infect a single drone, who would then carry it back to the Collective. 

Even before Chloe had summoned him here today, he knew that he was due for a new assignment. 

As was her wont, Chloe circled around him, her eyes appraising him. As always, he felt like she was probing for weaknesses. For some reason, he found himself thinking that Chloe’s eyes were like polished black mirrors which only reflected outward and revealed nothing. Kathryn’s blue-gray eyes, in contrast, were a window into her soul.

Apparently, what Chloe saw now was to her liking, as she smiled and nodded.

“Well done, darling. Another assignment successfully concluded.” He opened his mouth but she wasn’t done yet. “That is, I should say well done on the assignment itself. Your ‘extracurricular activities’ on the other hand…” She gave a sardonic laugh. “Random women you pick up in bars are one thing, but Shelby? Aside from the fact I didn’t think she would appeal to your taste, I thought you’d be more discreet than blatantly taking up with her while you were working together.” She laughed again as she moved closer to him until they were nearly touching. “On the other hand, your behavior _is_ understandable, considering your situation.”

“My situation?” he said, raising a brow questioningly. He’d be damned if he would apologize to _her_ for his infidelities. “Is this the part where you tell me my wife doesn’t understand me?” 

“Well, does she?” Chloe asked, disdain clear in her voice.

“I love her,” he said with sudden heat. “Do you know what that means? Have you ever been in love?” 

“Once,” she said, surprising him. “It was a long time ago.” For the first time since he’d known her, she dropped the seductive act. “He was one of my operatives. Young, dashing, talented, and an excellent lover. Brash, knew full well how good he was, but carried a big chip on his shoulder which spurred him on to ever greater heights.”

He asked, “What happened?”

“He was captured on a mission, and I was ordered by my superiors to cut our losses and leave him there to die,” she said in a clipped tone.

He suddenly realized who she was talking about. 

“Yes,” she said, picking up on his thoughts. “So, yes, I _do_ know what love is.” 

He was silent for a moment. “I never knew,” he said slowly. In his mind’s eye he replayed some of their more dramatic moments together over the years: the first time he met her—and took her—in this very office, their trysts between missions, and then the final confrontation when he’d returned from the Cardassian prison full of rage at her abandoning him. Had she really loved him? He could almost believe it. Aloud, he said, “Then again, I don’t have your ability to read minds.”

He knew full well she was perfectly aware of what he’d been thinking; she’d been reliving those memories along with him. Her eyes flashed as she said, “Would things have been any different if you had known? I doubt it.” She gave him another appraising look, this one tinged with sadness. “I also know that nothing lasts forever, and it’s best to let go, before there’s nothing left.”

He had never seen her so vulnerable and he was oddly moved. Without thinking he moved closer, took her into his arms, and kissed her. She responded with an intensity that surprised him, pressing herself against his sudden erection. He kissed her harder, forced her mouth open, his tongue meeting hers. With one quick motion, she divested herself of her dress and it fell to the floor. That was the final stimulus he needed to pick her up and carry her into the bedroom, though he could not say if he was moved more by passion or pity.  
***

Chloe stood combing her hair in front of the mirror, while he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots. 

Without turning around, she met his eyes in the mirror. “This is goodbye, Justin.”

“Goodbye?” he questioned, not sure if he was disappointed or just surprised. “That’s it? You’ve gotten what you wanted so now you have no further use for me?”

“Yes, I’m turning you loose.” She turned to face him. “I’ve recommended you be transferred to a new handler, to a different unit within the Section--one focused more heavily on research but with plenty of hands-on elements as well. It’s time to realize your full potential, with nothing and no one to hold you back.” Almost as a non-sequitur, she added, “You did good work on the new weapon.” 

“It wasn’t ready in time,” he said, still thinking of the horrendous losses Starfleet recently suffered. “Nothing I did made a difference.”

“It made a difference,” she insisted. “Because we’ll be ready next time. As much as Wolf 359 showed how utterly unprepared the Federation was for the Borg, we knew that the odds were against us going in. Some of the strategies your team developed prior to the incursion may have helped stave off even greater devastation. And data from the battle has added greatly to our knowledge, leaving us in even better shape than we were before.”

“Tell that to the ones who lost their lives,” he said, more bitterness in his voice than he intended. “More importantly, tell that to the ones they left behind.”

She glided over to him and reaching up, stroked his cheek tenderly. “You can’t win every fight,” she reminded him. “Sometimes ‘good enough’ is all you can aim for. The Federation survived, and that’s our victory.” A faint touch of amusement in her voice, she added, “Do I really need to tell you that our work doesn’t end with one battle or war, with the defeat of a single enemy?”

“Constant vigilance,” he replied, with just a hint of irony.

“Exactly. It never ends. Individual players drop in and out, but the battle for the survival of the Federation and its way of life is eternal.” She smiled and kissed him once more. “Goodbye, my darling.”

Later that evening, he thought back to Kathryn’s reaction when she found out about his Section affiliations, how upset she’d been. He could only imagine how she’d feel if she learned about the virus he created to wipe out the Borg. Though perhaps the toll of Wolf 359 might make her reconsider her approach to the ends justifying the means. 

He realized then that while he loved Kathryn--and probably always would—it would be impossible to remain with someone who didn’t comprehend something so fundamental about him that she'd insist on his giving up his work in the Section. Not to mention, whispered something deep inside him, someone who had chosen Owen Paris--and her career--over him.

The _Al-Batani_ was due to return in another four months. Not for the first time in recent months, he wondered why he hadn’t ended their marriage the day she walked out the door to go on that mission, why he didn’t just send her a message to that effect now, and set both of them free. But as always, he couldn’t bring himself to do it that way. Not while she was still so far away, and would be returning to a very different Starfleet than the one she’d left more than two years ago. 

Four more months till he would see her again. And then it would finally be over.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been two years since Janeway was last on Earth, and as she left the grounds of Starfleet Headquarters to return to the home she shared with Justin, she couldn’t get over how much—and how little—had changed since she’d left on the Arias expedition.

If her initial debriefing was any indication, the mission was universally acclaimed as a resounding success, and her star had risen along with it. They’d brought back enough data to keep the Starfleet Astrometrics Division busy for the next several years. As chief science officer, this was to her credit. She’d also acquitted herself well in the role of Executive Officer, and there were rumors she was up for consideration for a ship of her own within the next twelve months as a brevet captain. 

She let herself into their apartment, looking forward to getting out of her uniform and freeing her hair from its tight bun, and stopped short in surprise.

Justin was standing in the living room, clearly waiting for her. He was in uniform, and she noted in passing the third pip on his collar. His hair was much shorter and differently styled than she remembered, but otherwise he looked the same as the last time she’d seen him. She could only guess what was going through his mind, but she knew something was up when he didn’t immediately move to kiss or touch her in any way when she came in, despite their long separation.

“I didn’t know you were going to be on Earth,” she said. She tried—and failed--to gauge how she felt at seeing him again. Was she excited, happy, enraged? All of the above? It had been so long since they had had any contact, she couldn’t honestly say. It was like greeting a stranger.

“I have something to tell you and wanted to say it in person,” he said, his voice and face carefully neutral to the point of being expressionless. She couldn’t help but notice he’d said nothing about missing her, or being glad to see her again. 

“And what would that be?” she asked. She realized then that she _was_ capable of feeling something where he was concerned; her heart sank as she waited for his next words.

He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “I can’t live like this anymore, with a wife that I never see and almost never hear from, either.” 

With more than a hint of anger, she replied, “Well, you didn’t bother to contact me while I was away.”

“The comm works both ways,” he shot back, finally showing some emotion. “Clearly, it wasn’t a priority for you either.”

“Did you even miss me?” No sooner were the words out of her mouth, than she unwillingly thought back to the rumors she’d heard.

_During the last six weeks of their journey, the **Al-Batani** had finally moved into close enough range to resume regular subspace communications. Owen Paris spent a lot of time catching up on events that happened while the **Al-Batani** was in the Beta Quadrant, particularly the Borg attack, and held regular briefings with the senior staff to pass on what he’d learned. After one such meeting, Janeway had turned to go when he stopped her._

_“Kathryn, there’s something I need to tell you.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“As I mentioned, Commander Shelby was on board the **Enterprise** as the resident Borg expert. She apparently worked closely with Justin for several months before the cube was sighted heading toward Earth.” He hesitated for a moment. “That's where her engineering and technical knowledge on how best to defend against the Borg came from.”_

_Janeway waited expectantly, but Owen was silent. “And?” she finally prompted him._

_“Apparently, they didn’t just work together,” Owen said meaningfully._

_“Are you saying they had an affair?” she said incredulously._

_“Yes. I felt you have the right to know.”_

_Janeway shook her head immediately. “No, I can’t believe it. Justin would never--”_

_“Kathryn, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”_

She’d refused to believe it then, but something about Justin’s manner now made her add, “Or have you already found a replacement for me in your bed?” she said, her tone harsh. “Does the name Elizabeth Shelby ring a bell?” 

He didn’t deny it. “That was just a brief fling. It didn’t mean anything.”

“So that’s supposed to make it all right?” she said scathingly. “Were there other women besides her? Did _any_ of them mean anything to you?”

His face darkened. “And what about the opportunities _you’ve_ had in the last two years?”

Struggling to keep her temper in check, she managed to reply in an even tone, “I have been completely faithful to you throughout our marriage. If you can even make that accusation, then clearly you never understood who I am or what I am about.”

“No, I guess I don’t,” he said, taking a few steps toward her. “Nor did you ever understand _me_ or what’s important to me. You didn’t want a husband, Kathryn. You wanted someone who would keep the home fires burning while you were away, someone to support you unconditionally but wouldn’t require you to offer support in return.” He swung his arms angrily. “From the beginning, you were the one who set the rules and conditions of our marriage and God help me if I ever disagreed with you once you’d made up your mind.”

“That’s not true,” she said defensively. “Though, yes, we did have different career ambitions, which were often at odds.” She softened her tone. “Maybe we could both have been more supportive of the other.”

He shook his head and smiled, though it was not a pleasant expression. “It’s funny to hear you say that, as you were always so dismissive of anything _I_ wanted, or any decisions that I made.”

“Such as?”

“You never forgave me for leaving UP.”

“Once you made it clear to me how you felt, I understood why you wanted to go back to field duty.” 

“It’s a little late to tell me that now, isn’t it?” he said cuttingly. “You looked down on every posting I had afterward. And let’s not forget about Section 31.” 

As always, just the mention of the covert organization was enough to make her see red. “You never did leave them, did you?” she said accusingly. “So much for your promises.”

He didn’t deny that either. “It no longer matters. There’s no sense fighting over a lost cause anymore. We had a good run for a few years, but it’s over now.” 

Hands on her hips, she stared at him incredulously. “So you’re saying you’ve had enough. You have no further use for me, and you’re just going to walk away.” 

“That’s right,” he said.

She felt a pang of hurt but forced that feeling down. “You clearly came to this conclusion a long time ago.”

“Yes, I did,” he said. “The moment I realized that your career meant more to you than I ever would--when you left to go on this mission.”

She took a few steps back and concentrated on her breathing. “Why did you wait so long to tell me? If you knew you wanted out, why let it drag on another two years?” She couldn’t resist adding, “You could have had your precious freedom so much earlier.”

He was silent for a few seconds. “I didn’t think it was right to deliver the news in a data packet while you were so far away,” he said at last. “And then I heard your father was ill, and I didn’t want to deliver another emotional blow.” He stopped. “And maybe I wanted to see you again to see if we—never mind, I was clearly wrong.”

She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “I’m not even going to pretend that made any sense, as you just said you’d already made up your mind,” she said angrily. “Well, you’ve said your piece. So now you can just walk out that door, like you should have done years ago.”

He nodded curtly and brushed past her, then stopped when he reached the door. He turned around and looked at her a long moment. His expression softened infinitesimally. “Goodbye, Kathryn. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” 

She could have said the same thing to him, but didn’t. She turned her back and waited until she heard the door close behind him. She took a long shuddering breath, but she’d cried all the tears she would ever spend over him long ago. He wanted to move on, well, he’d gotten his wish. As had she.

She picked up her duffle bag and brought it into the bedroom to unpack; she’d left the majority of her belongings in storage, until she learned the details of her next assignment. She took a deep breath and willed herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

She opened the closet and the empty hangers told their own story; Justin had removed all of his things prior to her arrival. A quick check of the drawers confirmed that he had left nothing behind. And then she caught sight of his gold wedding band on top of the dresser.

She picked it up and involuntarily clenched it in her fist as she recalled their wedding day and the reception a few days later, remembered how happy they’d been. She forced herself to open her hand and read the inscription inside. _Kathryn & Justin, July 7, 2359. Always and forever._

She tossed the ring inside an empty drawer and slammed it shut.


	13. Epilogue

_One year later_

The day of Edward Janeway’s funeral dawned clear and crisp. The autumn foliage was at its best, and Kathryn stood at the window, breathing in the cool air as she thought of the day ahead. She felt a brief stab of guilt at her relief that her father’s illness was finally over, but after mourning his impending loss over the past several months, she knew her feelings were normal. After suffering for so long—particularly the rapid decline over the past half year—Edward was finally free. 

There would be a Starfleet memorial service sometime in the next few weeks, but Gretchen had insisted that the burial in Indiana would be restricted to just close friends and family. 

Hours later, Kathryn, wearing a simple black dress with short sleeves, entered the small Traditionalist chapel ahead of her mother and sister. Her old friend Mark, who was showing signs of wanting to be more than just a friend, escorted her to the family pew. He had been wonderful throughout Edward’s illness, always there when she needed him. She tightened her grasp on his arm, and he smiled at her reassuringly. She returned his smile, thinking that after the mourning period was over, she just might be interested in taking this somewhere, that maybe she’d finally found someone stable and supportive with whom she could truly build a life. 

Glancing around the rapidly filling room, Kathryn was touched by how many people had shown up to pay their last respects to her father. 

As if reading her thoughts, Mark said quietly, "Showing up as a witness to someone else's loss is a vital expression of our own humanity."

Only half-listening to the eulogies, Kathryn instead remembered her childhood, her father as he was then, and not how he was this past year, robbed of his faculties thanks to the disease. She remembered how she’d idolized him; he’d always been the brightest star in her firmament. Growing up, she’d always relied on his wisdom and insight and had continued this even as an adult. She acknowledged that he wasn’t around as much as either of them would have liked during her formative years, but there was no doubt in her mind that when he _was_ there, he gave her his very best. She couldn’t help but contrast this with what she saw of Owen Paris’s continued estrangement from his son.

A slight murmuring behind her caught her attention and she automatically turned to the back of the chapel to see the cause. With a shock, she saw Justin enter the room. He stood out not only due to his height but also his gold Starfleet uniform. She hadn’t been expecting him; their divorce had been finalized nine months ago and they’d had no further contact since. She wondered how he’d found out about the funeral, and what made him decide to come.

Afterward, Justin came up to them as they stood in the receiving line.

His eyes met hers. “I want to express my sympathy for your loss,” he said, his expression and tone sincere.

Kathryn experienced a number of conflicting emotions at seeing him again, but automatically said, “Thank you.” She was grateful for Mark's presence at her side. 

Phoebe’s eyes narrowed, and her tone was quite cool. “I’m surprised to see you here, as this service was for family and friends only.”

Before Kathryn could react, to their surprise, Gretchen reached out and hugged him. “I’m so glad you came, Justin,” she told him, her eyes bright with emotion. “It’s so good to see you, and I know that Edward would have appreciated your being here.” 

Instead of responding awkwardly, Justin returned his former mother-in-law’s embrace. “Edward was a very good man,” he told her. “I’m glad I had the chance to know him.”

He then turned and walked away, without sparing any of them another glance. 

That evening, the Janeway women were at home alone, Mark having departed for San Francisco a few hours earlier at Kathryn’s encouragement; he’d already spent a large amount of time in Indiana, particularly over the past months, and she’d told him she didn’t want him neglecting his work with the Questor Group anymore. 

After Gretchen went up to bed, Kathryn and Phoebe lingered over coffee, discussing the events of the day. “Mom was pretty happy with the service,” Kathryn said, idly turning her empty cup from side to side. “I’m glad that she felt Dr. Kaplan did a good job.”

“Yes,” Phoebe agreed. “Sometimes I sit through these eulogies and wonder if the officiant ever even met the deceased.” She paused. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw Justin walk in.”

“It was the right thing for him to do, to come and pay his respects,” Kathryn said, a little surprised at her own defense of his actions. “After all, he did serve under Dad at UP for two years.”

“Well, you’re much more charitable than I am,” Phoebe said. “I don’t think I’d be quite so happy if one of _my_ exes showed up at a private family service. If he felt compelled to show his face, he could’ve just as easily attended the Starfleet memorial.” 

“Maybe it worked out better for his schedule to attend now; maybe he was on his way to another assignment and couldn’t make it back to Earth for the Starfleet service.”

Phoebe rose from her seat. “Well, Mom seemed glad to see him, so I guess it’s all right.” She yawned. “I’m going to bed. Will you be up soon?”

Kathryn nodded. “Yeah. I just want to get a drink of water first.”

Kathryn went to the kitchen, and then, glass in hand, impulsively went outside on the deck. There was a hint of rain in the air, and gazing at the starry expanse of the heavens, she reflected that by burying her father, a chapter in her life had closed. 

She knew what her father would say to her if he were here now. She had taken an extended leave to be with her family during this difficult time, and now it was time to stop looking back and to focus on what was ahead. Edward had been her earliest mentor. It was his example that set her feet on the path to the stars and she vowed to make him proud of her.

She went back inside and preparatory to locking up the house, did a turn around the first floor, closing all the windows. A flash from the communication console caught her eye. 

She went over and closed the connection, keying in her ID code. There was an official communication from Starfleet Command, notifying her she had just received command of the _Billings_ , with the rank of captain.

Janeway closed her eyes and exhaled, and then went upstairs.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark's words about showing up to witness someone else's loss come from advice columnist Amy Dickinson.


	14. Appendix: Timeline

**2359**  
**May** \- _Icarus_ mission ends.  
**June** – Tighe quits Section 31.  
**July** \- Tighe and Janeway wed. Tighe takes a post at Utopia Planita, Department of Fabrication and Design (under Admiral Edward Janeway) and is assigned to Leah Brahms’ team.  
**July – September** \- Janeway serves a 3 month assignment on board the _Artemis_ as a junior science officer.  
**September** \- Janeway decides to switch from science to command track, over Tighe’s initial objections.  
**October** – Janeway begins Command School.

 **2360**  
**February** – The _Terra Nova_ incident occurs above Tau Ceti Prime. Tighe is contacted again by Section 31.  
**April** – Janeway finishes Command School. After a trip to Paris with Tighe, she is posted to the _Kyoto._  
**July** – Brahms suggests Tighe is just spinning his wheels at UP. Janeway is promoted to full lieutenant.

 **2361**  
**January** \- Tighe becomes reinvolved with Section 31.  
**July** \- Tighe resigns from Utopia Planitia and informs Janeway of his decision when they meet on Starbase Four. He is assigned to the _Vico_ , under the auspices of Section 31.

 **2361 – 2364**  
Tighe and Janeway find it increasingly difficult to spend time together, due to the constraints of their careers, leading to growing frustration on both their parts. 

**2362**  
**July** \- Tighe leaves the _Vico_ and is assigned to another ship near the Romulan Neutral Zone.  
**August** \- Janeway is promoted to lieutenant commander and becomes chief science officer on the _Kyoto_.

 **2363**  
**June** – Frustrated by Tighe’s continued rescheduling of their vacation dates, Janeway opts to spend her leave solo in Indiana, where she reconnects with her old friend Mark Johnson.  
**August** – Janeway discovers Tighe’s Section 31 affiliations. She is devastated at the revelation, and begs him to resign. 

**2364**  
**January** – Janeway is promoted to full commander. The _Kyoto_ is in drydock undergoing a full refit. Tighe takes a temporary teaching assignment at Starfleet Academy so the two of them are once more living together in San Francisco.  
**February** – Admiral Owen Paris offers Janeway the chief science officer/XO role on board the _Al-Batani_ which is about to set off on the historic 2 year Arias expedition to the Beta Quadrant. Tighe is very opposed and begs her not to accept. After further thought, she accepts the assignment anyway.  
**March** – The _Al-Batani_ launches.  
**May** – Tighe sends a brief message to Janeway for her birthday.  
**August** – Tighe is promoted to commander. Owen Paris informs Janeway of this, and also that Tighe is still involved in Section 31.  
**September** – Tighe has a chance encounter with a woman at a bar.

****2365**  
** **March** – Janeway learns her father has Irumodic Syndrome.  
**August** – Elizabeth Shelby is assigned to work with Tighe and his team in an effort to come up with some type of defense against an eventual Borg attack. 

****2366**  
** **January** \- Borg attack on Sector 001 and the battle of Wolf 359. Tighe continues to work on weaponry against the Borg.  
**April** – Owen Paris learns of his son’s involvement in the Caldik Prime affair. Janeway attempts to comfort him, resulting in Owen kissing her and then pulling away.  
**May** – Chloe informs Tighe he is being assigned a different handler in a different unit in Section 31.  
**July** – Owen informs Janeway of rumors about Tighe’s affair with Shelby, but she refuses to believe it.  
**September** \- The Arias mission ends. Upon Janeway’s return, Tighe informs her their marriage is over. 

****2367**  
** **January** \- Janeway's and Tighe's divorce is final.  
**September** \- Death of Admiral Edward Janeway. Janeway is offered command of the _Billings_ , with the rank of captain. She becomes romantically involved with Mark Johnson. 

****2371**  
**January** \- Janeway takes command of _Voyager_ and sets off to the Badlands.**


End file.
